13. Stress Relief

I competed in the 2014 BYU/UVU Jiu Jitsu tournament as a capstone to my BYU martial arts class. I had a good time competing at the end of the year. The competition taught me a few things on how to improve as a Jui Jitsu fighter, things that would have been good to know before my first tournament. Hopefully I will be able to internalize them moving forward. First of all, don’t rely on the scrambling process I learned through wrestling. I was a good wrestling scrambler, which helped me to gain and maintain position throughout the tournament. Unfortunately wrestling scrambling doesn’t account for triangle chokes (see picture), which I learned the hard way in my finals match. Also I learned the value of going to the BYU Brazilian Jui Jitsu club. By spending time after class and in the club with people more knowledgeable and experienced than myself, I was able to learn a few new moves that I utilized at this level of competition. By knowing moves your opponents have never seen, you have the ability to surprise your opponent and get a submission when they thought that they were safe. This martial arts class has been a great way for me to stay active and enjoy myself this semester. I am so glad that I was able to translate over from wrestling, to keep part of that history with me. This has been an awesome thing for me.

12. Grandma's Message

While growing up, my Grandmother always loved to give me new books to read. She always was checking barnes and noble to find the new hit series or up and coming author to introduce me to. I remember multiple trips to Idaho that started with a gift of a book. Eventual she realized that if she gave me a book on our trip that the time I would spend with her and the rest of the family would drop, so I have seen fewer and fewer books the past few years. Apparently this year she must have figured that the words of John Bytheway's How Do I Know If I Know were worth a bit of my time. As I read Bytheway's message, I saw the wisdom in her words.
Bytheway's book is all about testimony. He tries to help people understand the testimony that they already have, as well as help those who don't yet have a testimony to gain one. His acronym FEEL, feelings, experiences, evidences, and logic helps people to look at their life and see the testimony that they have developed. The book shows the different levels of conversion, such as I don't believe, I doubt, I wonder, I desire to believe, I believe, and I know. Bytheway shares the methods of going from one step to the other, and helping individuals gain stronger testimonies.
After reading the book, I am proud to say that my testimony in the gospel has grown. I still have issues that I am struggling with, but this book has helped me to recommit to doing better in my life. I am so grateful for a grandmother who cares both for my physical and spiritual upbringing.

11. Thanksgiving with the Family

My first Thanksgiving away from home. After a few months of college, Thanksgiving was upon me. This year we decided as a family that it didn't make financial sense for me to fly home for a few days to spend the holiday with my family, so I did the next best thing. I loaded into a van with a bunch of extended family that before this week I didn't even know existed, and made the trek up to Parma, Idaho to be with my grandparents and cousins. After a few days of food and fun, I have reflected on some of the most important things I am thankful for.
Family- I am so grateful for the family and all that it does for me. My grandparents called me up the Friday before Thanksgiving to make sure I had a place to go for the holiday, and within a few days had organized a fun week with the family. They took care of everything from transportation to entertainment, making sure that I had nothing to stress about over the week. My family is pretty close, and having a network of people to help support me over the years has really shaped who I have become.
Education- Over the past few years, I have had the opportunity to travel to various parts of the United States and the World. I have seen rags and riches, the elites and the poorest of the poor. The main difference I have noted is education, and the ability to seek more knowledge and understanding. Those who have been more educated have had more luck finding success financially, as well as have been better able to understand the world around them. I am so thankful for my opportunity to gain an education, and to better understand the world around me.
The Gospel- Going to BYU has helped surround me with individuals of similar values for the first time in my life. I have been to week long experiences with people of similar values before, but this is the first extended time I've had being immersed in a group of peers with similar values. Through this experience, I am able to see the positive impact that the gospel has on people, and how great a blessing it is in my life.
Though these are only a few reasons I have to be thankful this season, they mean a lot to me.

10. Live Like You Were Dying

There have been many things that have been put on and taken off my bucket list throughout the years, but one that has constantly been there as long as I can remember is to go skydiving. As a bit of an adrenalin junky, nothing has stood out as being more intense and stimulating than to jump out of a plane. I grew up snow-skiing and wake-boarding. My favorite thing to do in both is to launch myself into the air, feel the wind rush past my face as I glide with the birds, detached from my surroundings. Flying has always been my passion, and when I fly, it truly feels like I am alive. Though I can get a rush from flying a few seconds on skies and wake-boards, nothing compares to the feeling of skydiving. As I tried to gather the courage to drop out of the plane, the thought of flying kept me going. all of the sudden, where solid ground used to be, there was nothing. Wind and adrenalin filled all of my thoughts as I plummeted 10,000 feet down. While I can't honestly claim to have never been scared as I dropped, the pure joy I felt from flying well compensated for the worry. Flying is my way of being truly free.

9. On to The Mountains

As we set off form the parking lot, heads held high with confidence, none of us expected the challenges of the next few hours. Everything from chronic knee issues to being out of shape slowed down the group as we attempted to race up the mountain to watch the sunrise. Mount Timpanogos, the highest peak around. Over 11,000 feet above sea-level, this peak was as close to heaven as I could get without leaving the ground. But midway through the hike, it didn't seem like we would make it. The sunrise came and went, and though we weren't at the top we still kept up our efforts. Though not all of us made it, I eventual stumbled into the small shack assembled at the peak.The view was breathtaking.

As I sat up top, thinking of the hours and hours it took to make it, I reflected on the speech given in the new BYU presidential inauguration. The speaker discussed the reasons for BYU's location, right up against the mountains. In the scriptures, there is an analogy of the mountains with the temple, and accomplishment. with this in mind the top of the mountain became a more spiritual environment. Though the hike was difficult, and there were many more challenges that had to be overcome to summit than we had anticipated, those who were able to summit were able to experience a great physical and spiritual accomplishment.

8. Eight Seconds to Change a Life

“I think I just killed him.” Dad stared in horror at my limp body. Mom, Uncle Darin and my siblings all ran to the edge of the pen, looks of terror on their faces. My skull ached, and stabs of pain shot from my neck as I slumped off of my head. Flash back thirty minutes to the car pulling up to the sunbaked corral.

            The noonday sun blanketed the earth, shrinking shadows to small black dots. Inside the corral stood the champion. Roughly 600 pounds of muscle bulged black and white hide stood, ready to take on any challengers. Or at least to my nine-year-old eyes it was. The cow looked up as it heard the laughter and joking from my family as they piled out of our mini-van. My Uncle Darin pulled up in his big burgundy truck, a silly grin pasted on to his face. In his hand was a long blue rope, tied into a bowline knot; a cow-head sized loop dangling at the end. He called to my brother and me.

            “What I need from you both is to go into that corral and heard all the cows out through the gate. Leave the best one in there, and try to get this rope around its neck. Once you get all extras into the next corral, shut the gate and we can get started.”

            It must have been a silly sight, watching two boys adding up to maybe a hundred pounds running around trying to scare a bunch of cows five to seven times their combined size. The cows thought it was pretty funny as well and didn’t take the slightest of interest in our efforts. Eventually we managed to get one cow cornered, and with a whole lot of luck managed to get a rope around her neck. Dad and Uncle Darin came into the corral at this point, and with a lot more effort, we managed to get the roped cow isolated. Now the fun began.

            First up was Ellie. Mom glared at Dad as he held onto the back of her pants as she “rode” the cow. At three years old, her instincts were strong enough to know that it would be bad if she fell, so we all got a laugh seeing her scream and hold on for dear life as the cow pranced around the hard-pressed manure.  As the cow picked up its speed, Dad lifted her off to avoid the sting of falling four feet onto the hard dung.

Derrik was not as lucky. As a strong, independent seven year old, he didn’t need the supporting grip of his father. Unfortunately his landing wasn’t as smooth as his sister’s. After a few seconds of prancing around, the cow was successful in shaking my brother off its back and onto the ground. Derrik landed on his side, smacking his head onto the concrete like surface. He blinked the stars out of his vision as my dad and uncle laughed, remembering all the times they had done the same thing as children. Here they were, passing on a family tradition to their posterity. Their laughter intensified as Derrik picked some of the small bits of dried cow crap out of his shirt and hair. Even Mom stopped her worrying for an instant as I dove around trying to grab the rope tied to the cow as it ran around evading its next rider.

            Eventually I caught the rope and attempted to drag the massive animal to my dad and uncle. Moments like these were what I looked forward to every year when my family made its annual trip back to the farm. My dad still referred to this place as home, and tried every year to give us the kind of childhood experiences he had had growing up here. The farm was full of mystery and adventure. I remember bonfires at the river under the train bridge, aluminum foil boat races in the drainage ditches, driving the four-wheelers and gaiters around, always looking for new places to explore. This cow riding was introduced last year, and was a huge success for Derrik and me. What is cooler than being a bull-rider? Maybe we weren’t bull-riders, but it was still pretty cool to be atop an animal 10 times my size, using all my strength to hold on. I had been waiting all year to go again. Last year I lasted six seconds before falling to a hard defeat. This year I had more ambition. I was going to go a full eight seconds, just like the bull-riders on TV.

            As my dad and uncle held the cow in place, I jumped onto the back of the beast. My legs felt like they were in the splits as I straddled the cows bare back, holding onto the rope until my knuckles turned white. As my family let go, I felt a rush of adrenalin and knew this was my time.

            “One,” yelled Dad as the cow took off. I grinned from ear to ear as the cow ran sporadically through the corral, my head down in concentration as the numbers climbed closer and closer to my goal. “Two, Three, Four, Five.” I began to slip off the side as the cow turned, but somehow managed to keep my place on its back. “Six, Seven, Eight!” I heard my goal yelled out from across the pen. I looked up just in time to see the cow darting straight for a cast-iron fence. With my goal met, I confidently started to shift my weight off to the side and release my grip to prepare for a quick getaway before I was slammed into the fence.

            As I committed to the jump, I felt a sudden change underneath me. Instead of a level back, suddenly I felt a wall of flesh bucking up through me. With my weight shifted and the rope not in my grip, I experienced the delight of weightlessness as my body flew through the sky. I watched as my world went upside down as I flipped over five to six feet in the air, and then saw the sky start to get farther and farther away. I heard my mom’s shriek as the back of my neck made contact with the hard earth, and my body crumpled over.

            I honestly can’t remember much of what followed. All I know is that it involved a lot of pain, and yelling, and that I spent the next few hours lying down in my grandmother’s bed. In the middle of all of the fog, I can clearly remember one thing. My dad looking down at me, his usually strong confident facial expression replaced with one of concern. He cleared his cleared his throat and said, “Dalton, you have my permission to never listen to Uncle Darin or me on the farm again.” As the days went by and my body started to feel normal again, I could see a shift in the way he treated my siblings and me. Though we still did fun things, my dad no longer tried to push us to the limit. He started using words like “be careful,” and “that’s risky.” Though we might have missed out on some of the more fun things to do on the farm, we were able to see the care our father had for us, and knew of his love.

            One year latter, back on that same farm, things seemed pretty normal. Derrik and I were still having bonfires with the cousins, still driving the four-wheelers and gaiters, just like before. But this time, when Derrik asked me to help him take the four-wheeler off a rickety homemade jump, I thought of the risks involved. We ended up driving off the jump, but not before I said, “Maybe we should think about the landing part too.”

7. BYU Experience

Over halfway through the first semester of college. I always saw the college kids as being so old. It's crazy to finally be one of them. After two months of college, two months of living on my own, I am starting to understand what this whole college thing is all about. It all started coming to me a few weeks into the semester. It was 10:30 on a Tuesday, class in the morning at 9 am. As I started winding down for the night, there was a knock at the door. My roommate got the door, and in walked in 4 guys from our hall, each dressed up in shorts and t-shirts, with cleats dangling over their shoulders.

"Hey, we are getting a group together to play ultimate Frisbee. Want to come?" I looked at my roommate, and just started laughing. We suited up went out and played till midnight.

Though playing a game of late night Frisbee isn't a life changing event, it set us up in a fun yet appropriate mentality. We saw a chance to go and bond with friends from the ward, make acquaintances and friendships, some of which could last years to come. Freshman year is an important time to get good grades and learn a lot. But probably equally important is developing ones social skills, and learning how to be an enjoyable person to be around. Freshman year is about making friendships, having fun, learning a lot, and improving ones self holistically, not just intellectually.