Sunday, February 23, 2014

Untitled

I've been asked why I didn't go down to 106 pounds to wrestle this year. Why I went up to 113 instead. I mean, logically it makes sense to go down to 106. We did the math, and if I cut weight this year like I did last year, I'd make it. Last year by the end of the season, I was cutting from 111 to 98. This year I would have had to cut from 118 to 106. I really could have done it. If I made it, chances are I would take state no problem. I would be a state champion. The first Sophomore to take it from Malad High School. Taking state is one of my biggest goals. It's one of my dreams. I really, actually dream about it. I want it so bad. But do you know what I want more? I want to become good at life. I want to become a better person. And you don't become better at life by doing easy things. The people that are really, really good at life do the hardest things. So that's what I did. I went up to 113.
113 has been so much harder than 106 would have been. And it's been awesome for me. I have grown so much. Instead of having a 40 win - 2 or 3 loss record like I would have at 106, I have a 36 win - 11 loss record at 113. I've went from the pretty good wrestler that I was last year to the great wrestler I am this year. And as hard as it's been, as much pain as the losses have caused me to endure, it's been worth it.
State is this week. I'm going to go in ranked somewhere between #1 and #4. The rankings are a mess with some recent developments, so I could be anywhere in there. What I know is that whether I win state or I lose state, I've put my heart and soul into it. It's been worth it. I've become a better wrestler, but more importantly a better man. I'm becoming good at life.
So ready or not, here I come.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

The People's Lost Connection With Education

There is something very important that America is missing today.
While education is more widespread than it has been in the history of the world, and more abundant, it's empty. People shove facts into their heads all day long, and they do learn, but do you know what they are missing? A connection. The questions asked millions of times by thousands of students every day go something like this, "Why am I learning this? Does it even apply to my life? Will this knowledge make me happy?" And the teachers have answers to two of those questions. Yes, this knowledge will apply to your life, and that is the reason you are learning it. But... Will that knowledge make you happy? The teachers don't know. But I'll bet you do. I'll bet you know if math brings you joy, and helps you feel fulfilled. I'll bet you know the same for every subject. And do you care about the subjects that don't bring you joy and help you feel fulfilled? No. Of course not. Nobody ever does anything willingly that doesn't bring them joy or help them feel fulfilled. Not at first anyways. But after years and years of uncaring teachers telling inquisitive students that they ought to stop asking those questions and to sit down and shut up, the students stop caring. They stop asking. They lose the essence of education.
I don't care what the arguments against my stand are, but I will go to my grave with the opinion that memorizing math formulas, complicated grammatical rules, and facts in a science book is not education. It's empty knowledge. Education is learning how to ask questions and find answers. I don't care if you can't count past 10 and don't know your ABCs. If you know how to question everything, even to the very existence of God, and have learned how to honestly seek answers, I will place you as more educated in my book than almost any college professor and any world leader, and I believe God will too. Why? Because you are not a full bowl of empty facts. You are not a robot. You are an honest seeker of truth, and that is why you are so brilliant. Because you're connected to your education. You actually care about what you are learning. And so what if all you want to do is study science? Does science interest you? Good. Soon enough you're going to need to learn how to read to continue your study of science. Not long after that you're going to need to know a little bit of math. See, knowledge cannot be split into the categories of math and science and literature and still have meaning. Because they are connected. They need each other to live. Without any one of them, they all would fall apart, or lose purpose.
There is more though to this education crisis than just the fact that students are learning empty knowledge. They are losing, or have already lost connection with their mentors, their teachers. 
Have you ever learned something from someone you really admire, or care about? Do you remember what they said? Do you remember how they said it? Chances are, you do.
Now think back to your last class with a teacher that had no interest in you whatsoever. Do you remember what they said? Did you even care? Probably not.
America is missing the one room school houses. They are missing the connection that comes when a small group of like minded people come together in order to advance their education. In mass education, there will never be connection. Only mindless learning. And you can't really blame the teachers. Some of them probably would get to know each and every one of their students, and form a deep connection with them. But they can't. It's physically impossible. There are too many of them.
Isn't it sad?
Don't you wish that you could feel this connection in your education?
I do.
And I had it for a while.
But then things changed. The school I go to got bigger, more people came, and the connection was lost. Not to say that my mentors don't still care, but they don't have time for me. Or most anyone else. Not real time. Maybe a bit here and there. 
And the connection wasn't just lost between the mentors and the students. It was lost among the students as well. My first year was amazing. Everybody cared about each other. And even though we didn't all know each other, it didn't matter. We were Burgers, therefore we were friends. Then clicks and groups started forming as the school size grew. Not that this is a bad thing, it's necessary as the size of a school grows, but it further killed the connection the students had. 
Now, please understand that this isn't a post bashing on my school. No. That's not the purpose. It's just an example of what I'm trying to say.
So please, if you don't have one, get yourself an education. Stop learning for a little while and start thinking. Start asking. Because that's how you're going to become truly educated.
May God be with you.
-Dallin

Saturday, February 15, 2014

The Pain of a Wrestler

Today was a rough day.
Several of my brothers lost their lives.
But not really. Only figuratively.
I don't know if you as a reader understand what wrestling is like.
I don't know if you understand how hard it is.
I don't know if you understand what it feels like to put your heart and soul into something, and never give it up no matter the odds, and then be rejected in the end regardless of how much you gave.
But I understand.
Today was the day that we wrestled off as a team for the top two spots in every weight class. Today determined who goes to district and state wrestling, and who's season is over. And it hurt. It hurt so bad.
Before we go more into that, let me tell you a little bit about wrestling.
Wrestling is not a sport. It really isn't. Nobody has ever "played" wrestling. There isn't a verb to precede the noun "wrestling." If you're a wrestler, you wrestle. That's it. It's not like "playing" basketball, or "playing" any other sport. It's something different. Something greater.
In all honesty, wrestling is a lifestyle.
And for this lifestyle a wrestler will run hundreds of miles and do thousands of push ups.
He will give hours and hours of sleep.
He will put himself through Hell, just so that he may learn how to beat the unbeatable.
He will practice move after move after move after move, and after millions of repetitions still not be perfect enough.
He will miss many meals just to get to a lower weight class, and forgo plenty of irresistible sweets in order to stay in prime condition.
He will overcome injuries and defeats, and that relentless voice telling him to stop. Telling him that he's not good enough. That he never will be. That he never can be.
Even in his sleep wrestling does not leave his mind, because he dreams about it.
He will give up his weekends, and his date plans.
He will eat, sleep, breathe, and bleed wrestling.
Wrestling becomes his life.
For most wrestlers, the ultimate achievement is to win a state wrestling title. For a select few, a national title, or even a world title.
And through all of the above mentioned, a wrestler's brothers are his team. And they support him. They keep him going. They help him to shrug the pain off, and rise above the difficulties.
Imagine living like this. Imagine all the difficulties, and the pains, and the victories. Imagine it becoming your life.
And then imagine all of that ending at once in the blink of an eye.
Imagine it ending because one of your brothers beat you for that second spot going to district. One of your very own brothers crushing your dreams. One of the few people in the entire world that can understand everything you've been through ending your life just to continue his. It hurts. It hurts bad. And this is what makes wrestling so hard. Because whether you win or you lose, it hurts. It hurts to crush your brother. It really does. Trust me, I've been there, and I've crushed the dreams of my brothers before. I have broken them. And I have embraced them as they cry and as they ask God how this could happen. Because for them, life is over. And I have cried with them. I have prayed for them.
To those whose seasons are over, it's okay to hurt for a while. It's okay to cry. It's okay to sleep in, you don't have early morning practices anymore. Find something else to do for a while. Something that will keep you productive. Learn a new hobby or something. Unless you're a senior, you've still got another shot. Keep your head up. Everything is going to be all right.
As a reader, I don't expect you to understand this.
I don't expect you to know what I'm talking about.
Because unless you are now or were at one time a wrestler, it's nearly impossible to understand.
I just needed to get all of this off of my chest. Maybe ask you to share a piece of the pain with me so that I don't have to bear it all. Because I can't. I cannot bear it all on my own. Even coming out as one of the victorious, it hurts me so much.
Anyways, I'm done with this post. Thank you for reading, I really appreciate it. May God bless you all the days of your life.
Love,
Dallin

Monday, February 10, 2014

Why I Love The Life of a Cowboy

So... I'm not a cowboy. I'm really not. But I've been there. I've been on the roundups and to the cattle branding. I've seen the sunsets - and rises - as a long day of work begins or ends. I've had my fair share of frustration with that one stubborn cow, and also my fair share of peace and joy as I unsaddle my horse for the day at softly tell him what a good job he did. I haven't seen all of it, but I've seen a lot of what being a cowboy is like. And I love it.
There's a song entitled The Night Rider's Lament that seems to speak what I think on this subject. It goes like this:


Last night as I was out a ridin'
graveyard shift, midnight ‘till dawn
the moon was as bright as a readin’ light
for a letter from an old friend back home

Chorus:
He asked me why do you ride for your money
Why do you rope for short pay
You ain’t getting’ nowhere
And you’re losin’ your share
Boy, you must have gone crazy out there
But he’s never seen the Northern Lights
Never seen a hawk on the wing
He’s never seen Spring hit the Great Divide
And never heard Ol’ Camp Cookie sing

He tells me last night I run onto Jenny
she’s married and has a good life
Ah, you sure missed the track
when you never come back
she’s a perfect professional’s wife

Chorus:
She asked him why does he ride for his money
Why does he rope for short pay
He ain’t getting’ nowhere and he’s losin’ his share
He must have gone crazy out there
But she’s never seen the Northern Lights
Never seen a hawk on the wing
Never seen Spring hit the Great Divide
And never heard Ol’ Camp Cookie sing

Well I read up the last of that letter
and tore off the stamp for Black Jim
When Billy rode up to relieve me
he just looked at the letter and grinned

Chorus:
He sang . . .Now. . . 
Why do they ride for their money
Why do they rope for short pay
They ain’t getting nowhere
And they’re losing their share
Son, they all must be crazy out there

The audio to this song can be found here.

There are just so many things I love about cowboys, and how they live. Just look around. Their art is beautiful. Their songs have meaning, and their poetry is amazing.
Look at this.


It looks so peaceful, so serene. 
Now, it's hard to put all cowboys under one definition. In fact, it's not possible. But, most of them seem to live by a few important principles that the world lacks today.
Honesty.
Hard Work.
Honor.
Loyalty.
Determination.
Righteousness.
But most importantly,
Faith in God.
The life of a true cowboy is so simple. They lack many worldly possessions which tie other people down. In reality, they are free. Really, truly, free.
Doesn't that sound wonderful?
Well, it's time for me to stop dreaming now and go bed, which is terribly ironic, but think about this for a moment.
The life of a cowboy cannot be attained by everyone. It really can't. The simple, peaceful lifestyle of a cowboy is for a select few, and may God bless them. But look around for a moment and ponder what you could do to simplify your life. What could you do to make your life more fulfilling, more free? Whether it be something as big as getting out of debt, or something as small as taking half an hour every day to walk in a local park or meditate somewhere in nature. It doesn't really matter what you do, the only thing that really matters is that you actually do it. May God bless you in all your worthy endeavors.
Now go do.

Love,
Dallin