I thought it was called "Ararat."

 Dear Sifu Gardner,

“Build yourself an Ark,”
Floods rush on our valley home
Still, Mount Fuji waits.

“Build yourself an Ark,” is a quote from Rabbi Simon Jacobson, a teacher of Jewish mysticism. His advice to his students is to study and practice spirituality during the stable and good times in our life in order to prepare us for our inevitable struggles. When we concentrate on the higher aspects of ourselves, we gain easier access to those thoughts and feelings in our day-to-day. Over time we end up with a massive structure of truth and habits which we can lean on when the world gets dark.

In an attempt to build up my personal Ark, I decided to sign up for your Zen and Eastern Theatre class during the Fall 2020 semester. It became quite clear I had made the correct choice. The Zen portion of the class, and your recommendation that I read Zen Mind, Beginners Mind, taught me a meditation practice I’ve come to highly value. Coming into class and tuning into the foundational levels of my consciousness brought a calm, restful, habit to my intense weeks of full-time studies and full-time work. The Noh theatre aspect of the class, something I was more trepidacious about, ended up being equally valuable. I remember the first time we rehearsed our entire play: standing in the traditional posture with feet close together and weight on my heels, becoming a ghost seeking redemption, seeing Mount Fuji and the temple, and opening out my arms as our character received release from his past. Because of how deliberate the process was, I remember feeling totally attuned to the entire class as I experienced the same emotional freedom that our ghost did. An excellent addition to my Ark.

It was in the middle of the semester when trouble struck and my Ark was needed. Towards the end of October I fell quite ill; I was confident I was experiencing a rather intense flu, and I confirmed it with a doctor. However, three days into my illness I noticed I had lost feeling in my limbs and that sensation didn’t seem to be returning. I looked at my hands and feet and saw that they had turned blue. I was unable to stand and was experiencing pain through my whole body. My fiancée decided to get me to the hospital, but she wasn’t able to help me up. We called an ambulance, and one of the most vivid memories I have of that evening is the EMT asking me, “How are you still conscious?” as they took my blood pressure and saw how low it was.

If that wasn’t a sign of how much trouble I was in, getting to the emergency room made it clear. The team working to stabilize me was three to four times bigger than the teams I saw with other patients. They poked and prodded and injected and rubbed and definitely tried to soothe. The most intense moment came when they realized they had to do a special operation to give me an important medication: the chemical they were using would be safe for my organs but dangerous to bring into direct contact with my veins. Instead of giving me an IV through my arm they were going to cut into my neck, right at my jugular, and insert a thin, half foot long, hose past my artery and straight to my heart.

To do the procedure they had to cover my face with a plastic sheet; a tube was provided so I could still breathe. The experience, as intended, was rather distressing on its own; a dangerous incision combined with the oppression of not being able to see or move. This amplified when my breathing tube fell out; they were in the middle of the process of insertion and there was no way for them to help me adjust. Covered in plastic, with a lack of access to new oxygen, being stuck having to make shallow breaths, I felt panic start to come on. When I was a kid I didn’t even let my blanket cover my face out of fear that I would suffocate; all the stress and worry I had been trying to contain the last three days torrented on me in an anxious dread.

There was something that clicked for me, though, right in that moment: “I have no control here.” It’s something that came to me as we pondered the Kōan, “Who am I?” I am many things, including, “A drop in an ocean of humanity, matter, and energy. No matter what I do, control of the world can always be taken from me, if I ever even had it.” The solution, when power is taken from us, is to grab onto the one thing we can still control: how we react. I knew I needed to react in a calm, still, manner. If my panicked breaths continued I would lose access to the little air I had. If I moved or shifted to find relief my artery could end up cut and I would die. I began to meditate. Slow, relaxed, breathing. Focusing inward on my hara.

I calmed down, I survived, and I was moved to the Intensive Care Unit for further treatment. Meditation works.

My time in the ICU had its own challenges. I was given my diagnosis: septic shock of unknown origins. Somehow, more than a month later we still don’t know, an infection had gotten into my bloodstream. My body had started to shut itself down in order to dedicate more resources to fighting it. I had taken severe damage to my liver and kidneys, my muscles had atrophied to power the fight, and several layers of skin on my extremities had died as blood flow had been cut off. Septic shock has a mortality rate of around 40%, it was a close call.

I was stuck in my ICU bed in a blur of time and new nurses. I was given excellent care and I was given a chance to lean on my Ark again as one of my caregivers was an interesting and wise Christian. We had some great talks about spirituality and religion.

Did you know that half of ICU patients experience delusions and hallucinations while they are in care? I didn’t, until I started to experience them. Some say it is because ICU patients are so close to the veil that they begin to see the spirit world. It didn’t feel like that to me. I was trapped in this bed, my body had become so weak that I could barely move my arms and I didn’t have the strength to sit up or turn around. This means that for hours upon hours I was stuck, staring at the same three walls. I knew that behind me there was an open window to the outside, and I desperately wanted to see it, but all I had was these three walls. To me, the ICU delusions started because my brain was so sick of the same imagery that it started to make new sensations. I saw strange patterns of light on the ceiling, I saw bizarre people out of the corner of my eye (that was rather spooky), and I heard music that my nurses and visitors couldn’t hear themselves. A new sort of distress started to take me: what if my mind had been affected by what had happened to me? What if I’d always see and hear strange things? I’d never been in a situation before where I couldn’t trust my own perceptions and I wasn’t sure if I could handle it.

It was with these frustrations, of my body and mind, that physical therapy began two days into my hospital stay. The physical therapist established trust with me quickly, he came off as intelligent and caring, and he told me he thought I was ready to try to move around. With his support I sat up. He challenged me to try to stand as well. I love a challenge, and desperately wanted to get moving again, and so I took him on.

As I got to the edge of the bed he stood there, ready to catch me. My feet touched ground for the first time since the ambulance had picked me up. It took all my strength, but I began standing. I noticed, as he instructed me, that with my feet so close together the stance he wanted me to take was reminiscent of our Noh theatre standing position. I put my weight back on my heels to tune more into that headspace, it actually made the standing more comfortable, and I took smalls steps to turn so that I could finally see my window.

The view had me awe struck. The hospital was in an elevated area on the northeast part of Salt Lake City. I looked out to a perfect view of Ensign Peak and City Creek Canyon, more green than I possibly could have expected, and the Utah State Capitol standing as one of the only discernible buildings in a sea of trees. In my mind I heard your voice, “I am a ghost,” and in what some would call my imagination and what some would call my third eye I saw Mount Fuji in the beautiful mountain range and the temple in our capitol building. I found myself struck with the exact same feeling I had felt in our performances: warmth, redemption, knowing the past cannot hold me, and attunement to humanity. I knew in that moment that I would find healing, both mentally and physically, and peace came to me.

Once my doctors were confident that I was safe I was transferred to the Internal Medicine department to make more room for Coronavirus patients (I was only one of two patients in the ICU not there due to complication connected to the pandemic), my hallucinations faded, and after a week in the hospital I was released. It was during this time that you called me to express your prayers and well-wishes, and I will always be appreciative of your support.

Back in the real-world things didn’t immediately turn to normal. Recovery has been long, and I’m still not at 100%. Foundationally speaking, though, I am stronger than ever. It isn’t often that I’ve had to grapple with my mortality, but I’m glad that it happened when it did. The work I’ve done to build my Ark by studying Zen, other religious schools, and by practicing meditation every day got me from the lowest low I’ve had in the back on an ambulance, to the incredible heights of feeling in harmony with the universe and confident in myself and my resilience going forward, especially as I continue my practice of meditation and my studies on the matters of spirit.

I don’t usually end my writings on, “I think the biggest lesson I learned from this experience is…” but this time it seems appropriate. I have no idea what the future looks like. An infinite number of random occurrences could give me fortune or take away what I care about. My task, as a person determined to live a good life, is to prepare myself now so when good things come I can enjoy them to the fullest and so when bad things come I am as prepared as possible to think clearly and calmly to handle them as effectively as possible. What my time has shown is that while controlling the world around us is sometimes impossible, if we don’t let events dictate our thoughts and behavior, we can have redemption in the moment and from the past.

I will see you at Mount Fuji,

Scott Ryan Udall

That firefighter almost killed me.

Dear Chief Lieb,

While I have been an employee for Salt Lake City Public services for almost seven years, I am writing to you from my personal email because I am sending this as a private citizen to file a complaint about one of your firefighters. I do not write this casually or to “get back” at the individual in question for mistreating me, but because, as someone highly invested in ensuring the safety of the public and the city government’s role in that task, I feel concerned about this particular firefighter’s ability to contribute, and in fact, feel concerned he may be putting people in danger. My personal experience with him certainly didn’t make me feel safe.

On October 29th I came down with an illness which required me to stay home from work. I’ll spare you the gory details, but I was not well. My fiancée and I were confident that it was not Coronavirus because we had both come down with it two months earlier and because the symptoms were not similar. I stayed in bed, drank and ate what I could, and tried to wait it out.

On October 31st it became clear that I was not going to be able to do so. My first new symptom of the day was losing feeling in my extremities. My second new symptom was my hands and feet turning blue. My fiancée called a doctor when we noticed the issues, the doctor told her to get me to a hospital as soon as possible. Due to muscle weakness and pain I was unable to stand up, even with her assistance, and the three flights of stairs going down made other solutions equally impossible. We were forced to call 911 and ask for an ambulance.

Things went wrong almost immediately as the firefighting team was let into my apartment. The individual in question, who was either the most assertive of the bunch or held a leadership role, approached me first. He asked me what my symptoms were and without two sentences exchanged between us he said, “You don’t need to go to the hospital, you’re having a panic attack.”

When I expressed extreme doubt, he pressed on, saying that I started hyperventilating because I was nervous about having the flu. He was totally dismissive of my protests against his assessment. When the blood pressure machine was brought in and the results came back at ~60/40 (the borderline of getting enough blood to my brain to keep me conscious) he insisted that the machine was broken. My fiancée told him, despite his pushing, that the doctor gave explicitly orders to get me to the hospital. His response was, in a contemptuous tone, “I disagree.”

It wasn’t until my fiancée further insisted, and one of the other firefighters gratefully pushed against his assessment, that he agreed to help me. My fiancée and the second firefighter saved my life. 

I was helped into the back of the ambulance. The individual I’m complaining about let his coworkers do the hard work of getting me down the three sets of stairs, while he continued to speak casually about my condition. When the EMTs checked me they immediately could tell his assessment was incorrect. The EMTs themselves got quite nervous at how dire my situation was. They called to get the firefighter’s assistance, but he and the team had already left the scene, leaving the EMTs and myself abandoned.

It turns out that I had acute septic shock, which has a 40% mortality rate, increasing the longer it doesn’t get treated. This firefighter was wrong. I am incredibly grateful that the team of twelve doctors and nurses in the emergency room and the innumerable ICU doctors, nurses, and physical therapists for pulling me from death’s door and getting me onto the road to recovery. Finally, this week, I have felt up to writing you on this matter. Had even one other person treated me like the firefighter in question had, I probably wouldn’t have gotten the chance.

I got your contact information from a colleague in the city, but I pulled up your letter to the public to ensure I had your name right. In that letter, on the about page, you write:

“The goal of the Salt Lake City Fire Department is to promote safety and assist people in their time of crisis. We seek not only to make a good impression, but to provide the public peace of mind that their fire department is capable, ready, and willing to help them when they need it.”

This firefighter in question did not promote my safety and did everything he could to avoid assisting me. He made a horrible impression and almost robbed me of the piece of mind that when I call emergency services, I will be taken care of. I am healed and back to work, but I still think of how terrifying and infuriating it was to not be listened to by someone meant to ensure my safety. As I work with the public in my role at public services, it reminds me of how important it is to treat everyone with respect while I am doing my job. I am writing this letter to get some piece of mind, because if I don’t file this complaint and this firefighter does get someone killed, that will be on my conscious.

I do want to take a moment to talk about perception and interpretation for a moment. I stuck purely to the facts the best I could while describing the situation to you, but as people live in the moment-to-moment the pure facts aren’t the only thing that matters. When someone mistreats an individual it is normal for the victim to start wondering, “Why?” Why did he treat me this way? As I asked myself that my first theory was that he was lazy and some unconscious part of him didn’t want to do the work of helping me get down to ground level. My second theory was that he saw my Black Lives Matter poster on my front door, decided that I’m some sort of “liberal snowflake,” and decided I was overblowing things, like so-called “snowflakes” do. My third theory is that he was having a bad day, made a really stupid mistake, and stuck to his guns way too long out of arrogance (I practically guffaw every time I think about his idea that the blood pressure monitor was broken).

One or multiple of those theories could be right, but perhaps none of them are. I’m a rational person and I don’t like to fill-in-the-blanks with those sorts of interpretations if I can avoid it. However, I think most people do like to fill-in-the-blanks with an answer or a theory. As a public servant, part of the reason I treat every single individual with respect is because I know that people will otherwise make assumptions for why I mistreated them.

From a factual perspective let’s take the best possible assumption, that the firefighter gets grumpy and makes worse decisions when he’s hungry. He didn’t eat breakfast on the 31st because he forgets sometimes. If this sort of situation repeats and he gets called to a low-income area, “Did he mistreat me because I’m poor?” he gets called to help a person of color, “Did he mistreat me because of my skin color?” I worked with the Youth & Family Division for over five years and it makes me sick to imagine one of the kids I worked with thinking either of those things because a firefighter wasn't doing his job well. My personal interpretation doesn’t particularly matter, what matters is that he let the door open to these sorts of interpretations, and with that trust ends up broken.

Because I have been a public servant for so long and I’ve seen how the proverbial sausage gets made, trust hasn’t been completely broken for me. I don’t know if this individual needs additional training, if he needs to be disciplined or fired, or if it really was just a bad day. Allow me to express my hopes and expectations for the fire department on this matter:

1)      A good faith investigation will be done, and he will be identified. Below you will find my fiancee’s phone number from which the 911 call was made and our address. Between that information and knowing it occurred on 10/31 I presume your records will allow for this identification. I, of course, feel no desire to have his identity revealed to me and in fact I think he deserves his privacy.

2)      This complaint will be placed into his file so that if this is a pattern of behavior, either the beginning of something or a pattern which already exists, it will be tracked.

3)      The firefighter in question will be trained and/or disciplined as needed, as guided by both smart management and city procedure.

I would like to be informed that something was done, I’d love to tell those I have shared this story with that the department handled my situation effectively. Please pass my thanks on to the other emergency workers who were on the call, the ones who didn’t let him dominate the situation, I am incredibly thankful to them and to the fire department in general, with whom as a private citizen and a public employee I have had almost entirely good interactions with.

It is unfortunate I had to write this email, but there’s not much I can do when I feel compelled by duty. Please, in good faith, do your duty on this matter as well. The more public employees who are dedicated to duty we have, the less likely it is that the ones who are not get to besmirch our names. In the era where we are scrutinized more than ever, I think that’s pretty important.

The very best,

Scott Ryan Udall

Premeditatio Malorum

 Dear Jordan,

"Pray then like this: 'Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.'"

I don’t know if it’s a failure of memory, my attention span, the LDS church’s curriculum writers, or the adults in my ward, but my only childhood recollection of the Lord’s prayer coming up in a theological context is adults complaining about how other types of Christians use the verses to justify saying “rote prayers” without really explaining to me how or why that’s a misinterpretation. The divine significance of Jesus’s words here were never quite communicated to me.

The result of this, amongst other things, was a rather toxic relationship with prayer. As a teenager my prayers would be incredibly short because I didn’t really know what to say. The things I wanted were either trivial, so I wouldn’t ask for them, or were not given to me, such as a visceral manifestation of the Holy Spirit. I also felt totally incapable of feeling a connection to God. Prayer became something short, something done out of obligation because it was the right thing to do. I tried to follow Paul’s call to “pray without ceasing,” but while I felt connected to something while I was doing so, the emotions I’d feel were always various forms of discomfort and anxiety.

I know that you’ve been experiencing significant discomfort and anxiety lately, and I’m sorry that there is no apparent solution for your troubles. I know you know the feeling of knowing that a loved one is going through trouble, desperately wanting to fix the issue, but knowing there’s literally nothing you can do. I’m sure that feeling is a contributing factor to your current negative experience. I’m writing this due to your expressed interest in studies and work I’ve done which has helped me overcome and/or alleviate these sorts of emotions.

After beginning my “real” spiritual journey as an adult I sought to rectify my broken relationship with prayer. This was done largely through experiment: I’ve put myself into trance states, I’ve done forms of meditation from several practices, I’ve cast spells while connecting to ~The Universe~, and I’ve even tried to bow my head and address our Father in Heaven from time to time. Whenever I’ve gotten the opportunity to explore some sort of strange or new way to communicate with Heaven I have taken it. This has led to some ~Love and Light~ and some pretty intense darkness, but I, knowing the risk, have charged straight into it all as experience is the best teacher.

One of the biggest dangers I’ve faced in my experiments with prayer has been the sin of over specificity. By, without realizing it at the time, demanding something of God instead of being open to His plans. Allow me to share two examples: the first will be an example of a bad way I’ve practiced prayer, the second will be an example of a good way I’ve practiced prayer.

First, and I’m only sharing this example because it’s the funniest possible one, I definitely prayed to get laid. It was much deeper and connected than how it sounds, but that was essentially what I was looking for. Early in the sine wave phase of Celeste and mine’s relationship I had decided, rather temporarily as it turns out, to let her go and focus on dating other women. However, (I have spent five minutes trying to write the rest of this story and there’s no way for me to not sound like a dumbass, which I guess is the point) I really had no desire to sleep around with just anyone given how I’m such a refined gentleman. I very specifically requested, of the King of All Time and Space, that I get to sleep with someone who I love, respect, and feel attraction to.

It turns out there aren’t a lot of people that can describe, and I hadn’t really thought that fact through, because the drive I put out led me right back to Celeste and us having sex far too early for either of us. I was still working on whatever was pushing me to be with someone who couldn’t stabilize with me for me than two weeks. She was figuring out some very big questions in her own life, including things causing that instability. Our earlier sexual experiences led to some intense emotional backlash and pain; it wasn’t in the God’s timing.

Second, I recently had an opportunity for a promotion to a full-on supervisory role, I had a rather good shot at getting the job given my status at work and given my history of successes. I worked really hard on preparations for the interview; Celeste was at a job she hated at the time and the raise I’d get would give her the chance to quit without us having to be too worried. That money was going to make a big difference for us! The night before the interview I exercised one of my favorite techniques for petitionary prayer: I organized my desires into a clear intention, I turned that intention into an abstract symbol, and then I placed the symbol on the folder I was using to carry my letters of recommendation. My intention was that I would be placed in a job which would best serve me in acting on my values, values which are oriented towards my spirituality (see my previous post on Aretic Values).

Essentially, I turned to God and said, “Your will be done.” A couple days later I got a call from my director. He told me I didn’t get the job. Not to toot my own horn, but my emotional preparation done via that prayer let me handle the rejection with total grace and confidence that when I did get a new and better job, that it’ll be the one God intends for me. Celeste later told me that seeing how I carried myself in the defeat was the moment she decided to propose to me.

The dichotomy I’m drawing is that making specific requests from God is generally not a good move, while surrendering to His will is generally smart. The question becomes: how do I get into a headspace to allow for that? The answer came from another contemplation technique which is deeply philosophically tied to, “Your will be done,” but specifically originates from the Greek philosophy of Stoicism.

Premeditatio Malorum (PM), which I promise is not a Harry Potter spell, translates to “pre-studying the bad.” Stoics make the claim that the human relationship with the future is often toxic. Instead of trusting God (which they refer to as Logos, a concept Greek Christians tied to Christ right around the era where the most prominent PM writings were drafted), preparing ourselves by becoming more resilient, and then getting ready to adapt to new moments, we make an arrogant attempt at guessing at the future and then trying to control it before it happens. We’re always wrong when we try to do this, and those attempts hold us back from adjusting appropriately when the future actually comes. By practicing PM it is supposed to be possible to leave an anxious relationship with the future and enter a productive, more faithful, relationship with it.

To practice PM one must:

1) Enter into a meditative, contemplative, or prayerful mindset and posture.

2) Consider each negative possibility one has been anxious about, one at a time.

3) Take time to fully accept that negative possibility as being fully possible.

4) Take time to accept that negative possibility as being totally inevitable.

5) Take time to accept that you are prepared to handle that negative possibility.

6) Take time to consider the potential positives which could come from that possibility which you hadn’t thought of before.

7) Continue considering each possibility until you have exhausted the negative potentials.

8) Leave the thoughtful mindset, prepared to act as guided by your Virtue.

This process is designed to get us from demanding a future from God to accepting what He wants.

Not long after our dinner with you, Cianne, and Monique at Taco Taco I found myself in one of the biggest emotional messes of my life. Celeste and I’s relationship was in a precarious place. I cared for her so much and she cared for me, but her priority was not with me and instead with the MLM she was involved in. I was investigating it by going to her meetings, partly out of curiosity and partly out of my unhealthy infatuation for her. It became pretty clear, the more I was exposed, that the business model was toxic, that the company itself was evil, but also that I’d be pretty damn good at roping people in and would probably be more successful than most. I also knew that if I decided to sign up, my chances with Celeste would go up significantly.

I was pretty torn up inside, I felt like I was at a crossroad in my life. Being with Celeste felt like the most important thing in the world to me, other than perhaps holding onto my moral values. Do I decide to work for the scummy company which traps people in a shame cycle so that I could be with the woman I love? Would I ever have a chance to be with her if I didn’t? If not, when would the next time be that I get to experience feelings for someone in that way? It had been so rare for me to be even interested in dating, hence how the previous sex story went, and I didn’t know when the stars would align again.

I decided to turn to my Stoic training. I wasn’t as sure of my Virtue back then as I am now, but I did know that the “What if?”-ing was killing me. I practiced PM, accepted the worst of the worst, and decided to act on my Virtue. I wouldn’t sell out my soul, not for anything. Celeste and I soon broke things off in a terrible fashion, but six months afterwards she came to me in openness and vulnerability, knowing that while I had certainly made mistakes along the way my choice to not join the MLM was the right move. She and I dove deep in conversation about her Virtue and what was important to her, she decided to leave the group, and we started our healthily connected relationship two weeks later.

The practice of PM takes sacrifice. Every time I use it I have to let go of my immature vision of the future. It forces me to accept my place in the universe as someone who is trying his best, but is way too dumb to hold mastery over the world, and who just needs to trust that whatever forces are guiding what happens are doing things Rightly. However, every time I’ve engaged in the practice things have proven to work out as if that faith were placed properly.

To me, the practice of prayer/contemplation/meditation is the practice of altering our judgments. This can be done to align our thoughts more with our Ego, or more with Divinity. I remember, as a kid, being taught that “worshipping idols” isn’t just bowing down to a dope-ass statue of Artemis, but also placing anything else higher up in one’s hierarchy than the Will of God. I have found in my life that allowing my anxieties to run rampant is a form of that, where I am placing my opinion of How Things Should Be over valuing How Things Are, true reality is the only thing even remotely relevant to the Logos. As I continue to experiment more with forms of such alignments (currently I’m practicing a Neoplatonist technique designed to allow people to see into the world of Forms) I’m finding myself getting better and better at using ones that get me closer to the divine.

Outside of the mental training they give us, the truth is that prayer, contemplation, and meditation aren’t particularly special. If we classify them all together, let’s say as prayer, what we see is they are really just a form of thinking and attention which aren’t dramatically different from our normal moment-to-moment thoughts. Anxieties could really just be seen as a prayer to the Ego, as are feelings like frustration and unreflective desire. From this perspective Paul’s request that we always pray is actually easy-peasy. The real challenge, then, is to make sure we’re praying to the right thing as often as we are able. This is what concentrated prayer can train us to do.

My preferences are as follows: 1)the best outcome is that you read this letter and didn’t really need it because your situation is resolved, if not 2)something I’ve written here enriches you or otherwise helps you, if not 3) you find my thoughts and stories to be as charming as they obviously are.

I recently came across an idea from Cognitive Behavioral Therapy: there is no such thing as a right or wrong belief, rather, what matters is if our beliefs are helpful or hurtful. While materialistically we live in a cold and uncaring universe, I've found that taking on a spiritual perspective has been immensely helpful and intrinsically valuable. Rather than seeing through a lens of whatever happens to us as meaningless, though sometimes that idea is quite helpful in its own way, interpreting events of my life as being some sort of method of teaching from the universe, a call to learn, has been an immensely helpful belief. While I am not in the business of giving advice, I report my experiences to you as a way of saying, "You are not alone in your struggle, here is what has helped me, I hope my struggles benefit you by the learning I've done, but if not you still have my love and support."

To learning through pain, but not too much.

Love,

Scott Ryan Udall