This is how it's done in Portland.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Friday, May 18, 2012
it's so nice to meet you (or taking your boyfriend to utah)
Ryan and I went to Utah last weekend for my friend Ellie's wedding. The weekend was short and packed and lovely. I got to introduce Ryan to my family and vice versa. He also met some of my friends and I met more of his family. It's kind of a right of passage. Bringing someone you love and care about to meet the people who have made up the pieces of your life. To give your significant other a broader and deeper view into who you are.
It all went quite well. I'm really fortunate with my family. If you were to sit them down and press them, they'd tell you that they believe same gender relationships of the romantic variety are wrong. Maybe not in those exact words, but that general idea. However, I think most were genuinely excited to meet Ryan. Several of them expressed it in the weeks leading up to our visit. We kept it casual, a BBQ with the family at my parents' house. They did a really great job at welcoming Ryan and making him feel comfortable. No one broke out the Bible to read from Leviticus. Also, the fabric of society still seems to be in tact. We tried not to leave a mess of broken families deciding they want to get gay married in our wake. I think we were largely successful in that regard.
Friday we had lunch with Kendall. We did a little exploring at the new City Creek Mall afterwards, but I could feel it sapping the life from us, so I suggested we go lie on the grass in the sun somehwere. We ended up on Kendall's sleeping bag in Liberty Park talking about big ideas and using words like phenomenological. Well, it was mostly Kendall using that word and me gently poking fun. I realized how much I enjoy introducing people's minds and then sitting back and watching them enjoy each other's minds. (That kind of sounds like we got dirty there in Liberty Park, but it was all family friendly. Promise.)
Friday evening was a family dinner for the wedding at the Garden Park Chapel in SLC. Have you ever been there? The grounds were gorgeous. If I went to church there, I'd probably just opt for sitting out by the pond. Yeah. This chapel has a pond. The interior is just as lovely.
After the dinner, we met up with friends at Bruges to wish Dan and Ryan well as they were about to move across the country to Maryland.
Saturday was a day of eating. We started out by going to breakfast with Ryan's uncle, then we drove to Provo and had lunch #1 with some of Ryan's siblings. For lunch #2, we ate with my friends Ninny Beth, her new husband, Krisanne and Freyja. We ate at Communal and the food and conversation were lovely. Ninny and Krisanne told Ryan about when I came out to them and how surprised they were and Ryan wondered how they couldn't have known. Ryan told them how he thought I had a screw loose when he first knew me. Again, introducing minds is one my most favorite things.
We ended our gluttonous day at the ring ceremony and reception, which had a panini bar and like half a dozen different kinds of cake. We took it upon ourselves to try every single cake and decide which ones we liked the most.
I didn't get to see and introduce Ryan to everyone I wanted to, but our time was limited and I didn't want to completely overwhelm him, only just kind of.
It all went quite well. I'm really fortunate with my family. If you were to sit them down and press them, they'd tell you that they believe same gender relationships of the romantic variety are wrong. Maybe not in those exact words, but that general idea. However, I think most were genuinely excited to meet Ryan. Several of them expressed it in the weeks leading up to our visit. We kept it casual, a BBQ with the family at my parents' house. They did a really great job at welcoming Ryan and making him feel comfortable. No one broke out the Bible to read from Leviticus. Also, the fabric of society still seems to be in tact. We tried not to leave a mess of broken families deciding they want to get gay married in our wake. I think we were largely successful in that regard.
Friday we had lunch with Kendall. We did a little exploring at the new City Creek Mall afterwards, but I could feel it sapping the life from us, so I suggested we go lie on the grass in the sun somehwere. We ended up on Kendall's sleeping bag in Liberty Park talking about big ideas and using words like phenomenological. Well, it was mostly Kendall using that word and me gently poking fun. I realized how much I enjoy introducing people's minds and then sitting back and watching them enjoy each other's minds. (That kind of sounds like we got dirty there in Liberty Park, but it was all family friendly. Promise.)
Friday evening was a family dinner for the wedding at the Garden Park Chapel in SLC. Have you ever been there? The grounds were gorgeous. If I went to church there, I'd probably just opt for sitting out by the pond. Yeah. This chapel has a pond. The interior is just as lovely.
After the dinner, we met up with friends at Bruges to wish Dan and Ryan well as they were about to move across the country to Maryland.
Saturday was a day of eating. We started out by going to breakfast with Ryan's uncle, then we drove to Provo and had lunch #1 with some of Ryan's siblings. For lunch #2, we ate with my friends Ninny Beth, her new husband, Krisanne and Freyja. We ate at Communal and the food and conversation were lovely. Ninny and Krisanne told Ryan about when I came out to them and how surprised they were and Ryan wondered how they couldn't have known. Ryan told them how he thought I had a screw loose when he first knew me. Again, introducing minds is one my most favorite things.
We ended our gluttonous day at the ring ceremony and reception, which had a panini bar and like half a dozen different kinds of cake. We took it upon ourselves to try every single cake and decide which ones we liked the most.
I didn't get to see and introduce Ryan to everyone I wanted to, but our time was limited and I didn't want to completely overwhelm him, only just kind of.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
the sky
You guys, it's true what you've heard. It rains a lot in Portland. For a good chunk of the year, gray skies are pretty much a constant. I actually enjoy the rain though, so Portland and I get along well together. Plus, in the spring you get more sun breaks scattered in with the rain and more cumulonimbus clouds, and it makes for lots of beauty in the skies. I've kind of been obsessed with the sky this spring, which you may have picked up on if you follow me on Instagram. If you don't, here are some of the shots I've taken in the last couple of months.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
the problem with celibacy
I remember a while back having a conversation with another active and orthodox member of the church after Sacrament meeting about the gays. My friend made the point that the brethren have said that we welcome and love those who are same sex attracted. She asked why then some are still so angry at the church and why they don't continue to or come back to attend church meetings and participate in the community of saints. I realize that if you are reading this and you are gay and are or have been Mormon, odds are you are laughing out loud and asking where to start listing the reasons why. It was a sincere question though and so I thought the question deserved a sincere response.
I don't remember exactly what I said, but it wasn't too long after Prop 8, so I think I said something along the lines that although that type of sentiment had been expressed here and there on occasion by a leader of the church, the lion's share of the church's focus and energy put into anything related to homosexuality was in the political arena fighting against same sex marriage. Actions speak louder than words and the message of "we love you and you are welcome here" was far over shadowed by the church's involvement in the politics of same sex marriage.
Of course there are several other reasons why those who are gay and Mormon choose not to participate or affiliate with the church any longer, some of them having nothing to do with the church's stance on homosexuality.
Overall, I do believe the culture in the church is moving towards a place of having more compassion towards those who are gay, even if the outreach is often comes across as awkward or condescending. I think it's a step in the right direction compared to how homosexuality was approached 20 or 30 years ago.
As loving and compassionate as the insitution and the people might become though, there will still be those who won't want to participate for doctrinal reasons. Andrew at Irresistable (Dis)Grace spells out why this is quite well in a recent post on his blog. The church asks those who are gay and for whom marriage to someone of the opposite sex isn't a viable path, to remain celibate. The problem with celibacy is that it goes against what is arguably the main theological thrust of the church: to marry and form families. It is not good that man should be alone. As Andrew says in his post, "A fully lived life of celibacy isn't fully lived at all."
The church has never required celibacy of a specific group of people. The advice to those who are single is be patient and always put yourself out there and prepare for the right one who might come along. Not so if you are gay. Just cut yourself off from the possibility of experiencing that in this life. The carrot might be dangled in front of you that in the next life all will be made right and you will have an opposite sex spouse. Ryan and I were talking about this and he made the excellent point that another problem is that the carrot really isn't all that enticing. Telling me I can have the blessing of an opposite sex spouse in the next life if I remain celibate in this life isn't all that motivating or inspiring.
As Andrew says in his post, "Think about it. You have failed at one of the major purposes of your mortal existence. The solution? Not much in this life. Look forward to what comes after this mortal existence. In other words, when you have failed at life, what you're supposed to do is just bide the rest of this time and wait (in hope and faith, but wait nevertheless) for this life to end." And what you get after this life ends is something you might not even want anyway. It becomes fairly easy to see why so many lose all hope and choose to end their mortal existence.
None of this is to say, "SEE, the church HAS to change!!" It's not even to say, "See how bad the homosexuals have it? Don't you feel sorry for us?" I suppose it's just a heads up. If you truly want to reach out to, love, support, and minister to those in the church who are gay, you have to understand the full reality of their situation; otherwise, the reaching out will come accross as empty platitudes that will fall on deaf ears.
I don't remember exactly what I said, but it wasn't too long after Prop 8, so I think I said something along the lines that although that type of sentiment had been expressed here and there on occasion by a leader of the church, the lion's share of the church's focus and energy put into anything related to homosexuality was in the political arena fighting against same sex marriage. Actions speak louder than words and the message of "we love you and you are welcome here" was far over shadowed by the church's involvement in the politics of same sex marriage.
Of course there are several other reasons why those who are gay and Mormon choose not to participate or affiliate with the church any longer, some of them having nothing to do with the church's stance on homosexuality.
Overall, I do believe the culture in the church is moving towards a place of having more compassion towards those who are gay, even if the outreach is often comes across as awkward or condescending. I think it's a step in the right direction compared to how homosexuality was approached 20 or 30 years ago.
As loving and compassionate as the insitution and the people might become though, there will still be those who won't want to participate for doctrinal reasons. Andrew at Irresistable (Dis)Grace spells out why this is quite well in a recent post on his blog. The church asks those who are gay and for whom marriage to someone of the opposite sex isn't a viable path, to remain celibate. The problem with celibacy is that it goes against what is arguably the main theological thrust of the church: to marry and form families. It is not good that man should be alone. As Andrew says in his post, "A fully lived life of celibacy isn't fully lived at all."
The church has never required celibacy of a specific group of people. The advice to those who are single is be patient and always put yourself out there and prepare for the right one who might come along. Not so if you are gay. Just cut yourself off from the possibility of experiencing that in this life. The carrot might be dangled in front of you that in the next life all will be made right and you will have an opposite sex spouse. Ryan and I were talking about this and he made the excellent point that another problem is that the carrot really isn't all that enticing. Telling me I can have the blessing of an opposite sex spouse in the next life if I remain celibate in this life isn't all that motivating or inspiring.
As Andrew says in his post, "Think about it. You have failed at one of the major purposes of your mortal existence. The solution? Not much in this life. Look forward to what comes after this mortal existence. In other words, when you have failed at life, what you're supposed to do is just bide the rest of this time and wait (in hope and faith, but wait nevertheless) for this life to end." And what you get after this life ends is something you might not even want anyway. It becomes fairly easy to see why so many lose all hope and choose to end their mortal existence.
None of this is to say, "SEE, the church HAS to change!!" It's not even to say, "See how bad the homosexuals have it? Don't you feel sorry for us?" I suppose it's just a heads up. If you truly want to reach out to, love, support, and minister to those in the church who are gay, you have to understand the full reality of their situation; otherwise, the reaching out will come accross as empty platitudes that will fall on deaf ears.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
expanding on perplexity
"I remember being surprised by the discovery that attraction isn't necessarily a linear experience, but instead a fluid one, that comes and goes, that takes forms and shapes you can't always control. I never examined my sexuality--which way it leaned--because it just came to me and I let it in, and when it grew heavy, I let it out, like it was the most natural thing in the world."
That is an excerpt from a post on C. Jane Kendrick's blog. Go read the post if you haven't already. Read it because it's really lovely for several reasons, and also because my post will make a lot more sense if you do. One reason her post is lovely is this. I often hear people say that of course sexuality is experienced on a spectrum. People aren't either 100% gay or 100% straight. If you listen to the way we talk about homosexuality though, you'd think only very few people actually believe that's true. C. Jane's post, however, allows some space for the different ways people experience their attractions.
It would be easy for C. Jane to impose her narrative onto that of her leader. C. Jane felt some level of attraction for her, but ended up moving on to a male high school sweetheart. She could expect that because that's how it happened for her, the same should be able to happen with her leader. Of course, when they met up later in life, her leader could also try to convince C. Jane that she was living a lie being married to a man.
The thing about being human is that we like to hijack other people's stories and see them through our own lens, or present them in a way that furthers our own agenda. The result? Lots of people walk around telling themselves and others half truths about themselves. We leave out the parts that we fear might confirm the experience of someone with whom we might disagree. We fear that others might hijack our story and twist it to fit their own needs. Or maybe we don't tell our full truth because we aren't even really aware of what it is. The shadow is a scary part of self to meet face to face.
To put it in more concrete and specific terms, if someone has ever expressed any kind of attraction toward anyone of the same gender but ends up marrying someone of the opposite gender, lots of people are quick to assume that person is only deluding him/herself. Or, that person who has some attraction to the same gender but ends up marrying someone of the oppostie gender might insist that his/her path is possible for everyone.
To be sure, lots of people probably are only deluding themselves. I just have to assume that any given person is better suited to know what's best for him/her than I am, even though I might feel very strongly that I do indeed know better. My hope is that allowing others the space and respect to create their own life path will lead to others affording me the same space and respect.
Compare C. Jane's post to this post by Kathryn at AWell-Behaved Mormon Woman. Kathryn is obviously trying to reach out to and understand the experience of the gay Mormon. She contacts and has a very civil exchange with one of the students involved in the BYU It Gets Better video and shares that email exchange in the post with his permission. I think it's fantastic that she seeking to reach out and have a conversation. It's also fairly evident though, that she's more comfortable talking about it using terms that fit her view of the world. Lots of people in the church prefer gay members to see it as a "struggle with same gender attraction". This might not be the message that is intended, but the message often feels like it is expected that homosexual members be constantly struggling and fighting against what feels natural to them, instead of arriving at a place of peace and confidence with who they are and how they experience their sexuality.
In many ways, the discussions about this seem to be emerging as a tug-of-war over how the narrative of a gay Mormon should be defined and shaped and experienced, instead of giving people the tools and space to discover, define, shape and experience their own narratives in a way that best meets their own individual emotional and spiritual needs.
Devastating things can happen when a person doesn't feel any control over his/her own narrative. There is a lack of trust in self, and as a result a lack of connection to God and spirit. A person's very personal spiritual journey becomes a political football and when that happens, the conversations become more about the politics than about needs of a suffering individual. The result is that the suffering individual feels a complete lack of control over and understanding of their situation. This leads to a loss of hope and a lot of pain, that unfortunately too many choose to end by doing what seems like the only way to take back control, and end their own life.
On the contrary, amazing things can happen when you gain control over your own narrative. I experienced more confidence, love of self and others, peace, direction, connection to God and the Spirit. I believe it was in large part due to people in my life who loved me enough to let me define and create my own path, even if making some mistakes was part of that path and even if certain aspects of the path made them uncomfortable.
I believe that it's through blessing each other with that space that will end untold amounts of suffering, whatever issue we might be facing.
That is an excerpt from a post on C. Jane Kendrick's blog. Go read the post if you haven't already. Read it because it's really lovely for several reasons, and also because my post will make a lot more sense if you do. One reason her post is lovely is this. I often hear people say that of course sexuality is experienced on a spectrum. People aren't either 100% gay or 100% straight. If you listen to the way we talk about homosexuality though, you'd think only very few people actually believe that's true. C. Jane's post, however, allows some space for the different ways people experience their attractions.
It would be easy for C. Jane to impose her narrative onto that of her leader. C. Jane felt some level of attraction for her, but ended up moving on to a male high school sweetheart. She could expect that because that's how it happened for her, the same should be able to happen with her leader. Of course, when they met up later in life, her leader could also try to convince C. Jane that she was living a lie being married to a man.
The thing about being human is that we like to hijack other people's stories and see them through our own lens, or present them in a way that furthers our own agenda. The result? Lots of people walk around telling themselves and others half truths about themselves. We leave out the parts that we fear might confirm the experience of someone with whom we might disagree. We fear that others might hijack our story and twist it to fit their own needs. Or maybe we don't tell our full truth because we aren't even really aware of what it is. The shadow is a scary part of self to meet face to face.
To put it in more concrete and specific terms, if someone has ever expressed any kind of attraction toward anyone of the same gender but ends up marrying someone of the opposite gender, lots of people are quick to assume that person is only deluding him/herself. Or, that person who has some attraction to the same gender but ends up marrying someone of the oppostie gender might insist that his/her path is possible for everyone.
To be sure, lots of people probably are only deluding themselves. I just have to assume that any given person is better suited to know what's best for him/her than I am, even though I might feel very strongly that I do indeed know better. My hope is that allowing others the space and respect to create their own life path will lead to others affording me the same space and respect.
Compare C. Jane's post to this post by Kathryn at AWell-Behaved Mormon Woman. Kathryn is obviously trying to reach out to and understand the experience of the gay Mormon. She contacts and has a very civil exchange with one of the students involved in the BYU It Gets Better video and shares that email exchange in the post with his permission. I think it's fantastic that she seeking to reach out and have a conversation. It's also fairly evident though, that she's more comfortable talking about it using terms that fit her view of the world. Lots of people in the church prefer gay members to see it as a "struggle with same gender attraction". This might not be the message that is intended, but the message often feels like it is expected that homosexual members be constantly struggling and fighting against what feels natural to them, instead of arriving at a place of peace and confidence with who they are and how they experience their sexuality.
In many ways, the discussions about this seem to be emerging as a tug-of-war over how the narrative of a gay Mormon should be defined and shaped and experienced, instead of giving people the tools and space to discover, define, shape and experience their own narratives in a way that best meets their own individual emotional and spiritual needs.
Devastating things can happen when a person doesn't feel any control over his/her own narrative. There is a lack of trust in self, and as a result a lack of connection to God and spirit. A person's very personal spiritual journey becomes a political football and when that happens, the conversations become more about the politics than about needs of a suffering individual. The result is that the suffering individual feels a complete lack of control over and understanding of their situation. This leads to a loss of hope and a lot of pain, that unfortunately too many choose to end by doing what seems like the only way to take back control, and end their own life.
On the contrary, amazing things can happen when you gain control over your own narrative. I experienced more confidence, love of self and others, peace, direction, connection to God and the Spirit. I believe it was in large part due to people in my life who loved me enough to let me define and create my own path, even if making some mistakes was part of that path and even if certain aspects of the path made them uncomfortable.
I believe that it's through blessing each other with that space that will end untold amounts of suffering, whatever issue we might be facing.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
far between
A little over a week ago, the website for Far Between was launched. If you haven't already, you should go and check it out. There are several videos of people sharing their stories and lots of resources. I think the most important part of the site is the collection of people telling their stories. If you don't personally know anyone who is gay, but would like to gain a little more understanding on the topic of homosexuality, watching these videos is a great place to start. New videos will be added regularly, so you'll want to check back. This video of Nick was just released this afternoon.
There are also videos of parents of gay children, sharing their experiences. Like Andrea:
And Charles:
Watch the videos and allow yourself to open up to and be affected and challenged by their stories. There are people with a variety of perspectives. I've found that too often, when listening to these types of stories, if information isn't given up front about the person, we listen closely for specific words and ways of describing one's own experience so we know whether or not the person's story is legitimate or not. If they describe their experience in the same way I would and use similar words that I would use, then I open myself up to their story. If not, then I dismiss the person and the story.
Try not to do that. Try opening yourself up to the person and the story, even if (or especially if) the story doesn't immediately resonate with you.
There are also videos of parents of gay children, sharing their experiences. Like Andrea:
And Charles:
Watch the videos and allow yourself to open up to and be affected and challenged by their stories. There are people with a variety of perspectives. I've found that too often, when listening to these types of stories, if information isn't given up front about the person, we listen closely for specific words and ways of describing one's own experience so we know whether or not the person's story is legitimate or not. If they describe their experience in the same way I would and use similar words that I would use, then I open myself up to their story. If not, then I dismiss the person and the story.
Try not to do that. Try opening yourself up to the person and the story, even if (or especially if) the story doesn't immediately resonate with you.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
empathy for the lived experience
My friend Krisanne just posted something lovely about empathy on her blog that got me thinking. Her post was a result of listening to the RadioWest interview that Kendall did back in December with Doug Fabrizio. Her post isn't long, so go read it. You should actually be following her blog anyway because that girl serves it up Krisanne style. By that, I mean you will always feel like you are sitting around a crackling fire with those you love, drinking something warm while you all bare the most beautiful parts of your souls to each other.
Anyway, here's part of what Krisanne said on her blog:
After letting this interview stew for 24 hours, I've come to the conclusion that I would do well in taking a page from the book of Kendall. It is easy for me to demonize those who don't think like I do or to dismiss their beliefs as less evolved. It is a breeze for me to cling to ideologies and worship at the altar of liberalism instead of really sitting for a time with those with whom I disagree (mostly conservative Republicans. Ha!). Really, how prideful of me. That sort of attitude does nothing in progressing the cause of empathy. It doesn't mean that I can't speak up for what I feel is right or good or true. It just means that I should avoid snorting and sighing audibly when other people disagree with me. It really means that I could do better at seeking to understand the lived experience of everyone, especially those who see things very differently than I do.
I got to thinking about why it is so damn hard to seek to understand people with whom we disagree strongly. I think part of it is that seeking to understand feels a lot like you are allowing yourself to validate and agree with that person, which in turn feels like you are killing off a part of yourself and your identity by giving it over to understanding the other person's lived experience. That is a scary space to allow yourself to visit. What if you come out of it with some of your key beliefs and assumptions turned upside down? What if, heaven forbid, the experience leaves you feeling love towards this person you despise?
I realize the process of empathy is much easier to talk about than to employ in every day life. Sometimes the other person returns nothing but hate and vitriol. Sometimes we are awkward in our seeking to show empathy and come off sounding condescending. The process is riddled with land mines. I think it's where we start though. And even though seeking to have feelings of empathy doesn't always lead to empathetic behavior, I believe that's where it starts. It's very possible to have empathetic feelings not lead to empathetic behavior, but I think it's virtually impossible to have the behavior take place without having the feelings first.
I believe the idea of the atonement is the ultimate example of empathy. Christ allowed himself to visit and feel the lived experience of anyone who had or would ever live. Through doing that, he didn't destroy who he was, but lifted everyone and allowed them to become better than they otherwise would be and he became Savior. Each of us has the opportunity to do the some small portion of that for everyone around us. How else are we to become more like the Divine?
It reminds me of my favorite quote. I've posted it on this blog several times and I'm posting it again.
By size I mean the stature of [your] soul, the range and depth of [your] love, [your] capacity for relationships. I mean the volume of life you can take into your being and still maintain your integrity and individuality, the intensity and variety of outlook you can entertain in the unity of your being without feeling defensive or insecure. I mean the strength of your spirit to encourage others to become freer in the development of their diversity and uniqueness. I mean the power to sustain more complex and enriching tensions. I mean the magnanimity of concern to provide conditions that enable others to increase in stature. --Bernard Loomer
Anyway, here's part of what Krisanne said on her blog:
After letting this interview stew for 24 hours, I've come to the conclusion that I would do well in taking a page from the book of Kendall. It is easy for me to demonize those who don't think like I do or to dismiss their beliefs as less evolved. It is a breeze for me to cling to ideologies and worship at the altar of liberalism instead of really sitting for a time with those with whom I disagree (mostly conservative Republicans. Ha!). Really, how prideful of me. That sort of attitude does nothing in progressing the cause of empathy. It doesn't mean that I can't speak up for what I feel is right or good or true. It just means that I should avoid snorting and sighing audibly when other people disagree with me. It really means that I could do better at seeking to understand the lived experience of everyone, especially those who see things very differently than I do.
I got to thinking about why it is so damn hard to seek to understand people with whom we disagree strongly. I think part of it is that seeking to understand feels a lot like you are allowing yourself to validate and agree with that person, which in turn feels like you are killing off a part of yourself and your identity by giving it over to understanding the other person's lived experience. That is a scary space to allow yourself to visit. What if you come out of it with some of your key beliefs and assumptions turned upside down? What if, heaven forbid, the experience leaves you feeling love towards this person you despise?
I realize the process of empathy is much easier to talk about than to employ in every day life. Sometimes the other person returns nothing but hate and vitriol. Sometimes we are awkward in our seeking to show empathy and come off sounding condescending. The process is riddled with land mines. I think it's where we start though. And even though seeking to have feelings of empathy doesn't always lead to empathetic behavior, I believe that's where it starts. It's very possible to have empathetic feelings not lead to empathetic behavior, but I think it's virtually impossible to have the behavior take place without having the feelings first.
I believe the idea of the atonement is the ultimate example of empathy. Christ allowed himself to visit and feel the lived experience of anyone who had or would ever live. Through doing that, he didn't destroy who he was, but lifted everyone and allowed them to become better than they otherwise would be and he became Savior. Each of us has the opportunity to do the some small portion of that for everyone around us. How else are we to become more like the Divine?
It reminds me of my favorite quote. I've posted it on this blog several times and I'm posting it again.
By size I mean the stature of [your] soul, the range and depth of [your] love, [your] capacity for relationships. I mean the volume of life you can take into your being and still maintain your integrity and individuality, the intensity and variety of outlook you can entertain in the unity of your being without feeling defensive or insecure. I mean the strength of your spirit to encourage others to become freer in the development of their diversity and uniqueness. I mean the power to sustain more complex and enriching tensions. I mean the magnanimity of concern to provide conditions that enable others to increase in stature. --Bernard Loomer
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
meditations on Downton Abbey love
I meditated this morning. It's been a while. I went on a meditation retreat a few weeks ago, but other than that, it's been a while since I sat down and meditated. I like to do it in the morning after I shower, but lately sleep has won out. I fell asleep fairly early last night and was wide awake at 5:45. So I meditated.
One of the things that I like about meditation is that if you are failing at it, you can still be doing it right. The idea is that you sit still and empty your mind of all thoughts. You leave the past in the past and the future in the future and you focus on your body and breathing here and now. It usually takes me a while to completely quiet my mind. It's hard to not think about anything at all. We're all so addicted to thinking. The meditating can still be a useful exercise though, when I pay attention to what the tentacles of my mind are grasping at. When I sit still and manage to clear my mind for a minute or two, what bubbles up? What do my grasping mind tentacles tell me about myself?
Also, I have a boyfriend. It just kind of happened fairly unexpectedly. I've known of him for at least a couple of years, but we came in contact again in October, the month in which we were both born. It was one of those things where circumstances allowed both of us to see each other in a different light. The development of the relationship has been about as easy as walking into a gorgeous, dimly lit room. You just walk in and have a vague sense that there's something beautiful about the room and it's confirmed as the sun gradually rises and light floods the room and you are somehow both surprised and not surprised to realize how beautiful and comfortable it is. Like the curling-up-on-the-couch-together-on-a-Sunday-evening-eating-delicious-Valentine's-popcorn-and-watching-Downton-Abbey kind of beautiful and comfortable. That's me and Ryan.
One of the things that I like about meditation is that if you are failing at it, you can still be doing it right. The idea is that you sit still and empty your mind of all thoughts. You leave the past in the past and the future in the future and you focus on your body and breathing here and now. It usually takes me a while to completely quiet my mind. It's hard to not think about anything at all. We're all so addicted to thinking. The meditating can still be a useful exercise though, when I pay attention to what the tentacles of my mind are grasping at. When I sit still and manage to clear my mind for a minute or two, what bubbles up? What do my grasping mind tentacles tell me about myself?
Also, I have a boyfriend. It just kind of happened fairly unexpectedly. I've known of him for at least a couple of years, but we came in contact again in October, the month in which we were both born. It was one of those things where circumstances allowed both of us to see each other in a different light. The development of the relationship has been about as easy as walking into a gorgeous, dimly lit room. You just walk in and have a vague sense that there's something beautiful about the room and it's confirmed as the sun gradually rises and light floods the room and you are somehow both surprised and not surprised to realize how beautiful and comfortable it is. Like the curling-up-on-the-couch-together-on-a-Sunday-evening-eating-delicious-Valentine's-popcorn-and-watching-Downton-Abbey kind of beautiful and comfortable. That's me and Ryan.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
shamed
I've been really sparse with the blog updates lately. I'm not really apologizing for it though, just acknowledging it. It's partly due to me being super busy at work and partly due to a certain someone who has been a welcome distraction. I'll blog more about that later. For now, I'd like to draw your attention to a documentary that some friends of mine are working on called Shamed. Pornography addiction is certainly an issue that can cripple the lives of those who become ensnared, and I think we often don't talk about it in ways that are helpful for those who feel trapped by it. I think the ways we talk about it can actually make things worse.
As stated on their Kickstarter page, "Shamed will look at how to remove the debilitating personal and group shame that exists around pornography and sexuality in conservative Christian communities. Our best protection is open, honest, healthy communication on pornography and sexual addiction, empowering the people we love to SPEAK, LISTEN, and HEAL."
Visit their Kickstarter page and if it's a project you'd like to see happen, send them some monetary love and pass on the link to others who might be interested in contributing.
As stated on their Kickstarter page, "Shamed will look at how to remove the debilitating personal and group shame that exists around pornography and sexuality in conservative Christian communities. Our best protection is open, honest, healthy communication on pornography and sexual addiction, empowering the people we love to SPEAK, LISTEN, and HEAL."
Visit their Kickstarter page and if it's a project you'd like to see happen, send them some monetary love and pass on the link to others who might be interested in contributing.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
a great net of souls
The following is an excerpt from an essay by Joanna Macy entitled "Pass it On." She tells of her experience in 1992 doing some despair and empowerment work with residents of the Russian city Novozybkov, which is one of the cities that was most contaminated by the Chernobyl nuclear disaster in 1986.
That afternoon the grief broke open.
It happened unexpectedly, at the close of a guided meditation in which I invited these people of Novozybkov to connect with their ancestors and harvest their strengths. Moving through the room, as on a vast wheel turning, they went backward in time through all preceding generations, with Yuri's voice guiding them. Then they stopped and moved forward, retracing their steps through time, in order to gather the gifts of the ancestors. But when we came up to the year 1986, they balked. They did not want to come any further into the present. They refused to accept the horror of what happened to them then--and that very refusal compelled them to speak of it.
Talk exploded, releasing memories of that unacceptable spring: the searing hot wind from the southwest, the white ash that fell from a clear sky, the children running and playing in it, the drenching rain the followed, the rumors, the fear. Remember how it was? Remember, remember? I saw you standing in your doorway, watching. Our team had laid out paper and colored pencils for people to draw the gifts they'd harvested from the ancestors, but now there was one theme only. A number of the drawings featured trees, and a road to the trees, and across the road a barrier, or a large X, blocking the way.
When we finally reassembled in one large circle, the good feelings that had grown during the workshop shattered into anger, now directed at me. "Why have you done this to us?" a woman cried out. What good does it do? I would be willing to feel the sorrow--all the sorrow in the world--if it could save my two little daughters from cancer. Each time I look at them I wonder about tumors growing inside them. Can my tears protect them? What good are my tears if they can't?"
Angry, puzzled statements came from all around me. Our time together had been so good until now, so welcome a respite from what their lives had become; why had I spoiled it?
Listening to them all, I felt deeply chastened and silently blamed myself for my insensitivity. What, now, could I possibly say? To lecture on the value of despair work would be obscene. When I finally broke the silence that followed the long outburst, I was surprised that the words that came were not about them or their suffering under Chernobyl, but about the people of Hannelore and Anastasia.
"I have no wisdom with which to meet your grief. But I can share this with you: After the war that almost destroyed their country, the German people determined they would do anything to spare their children the suffering they had known. They worked hard to provide them a safe, rich life. They created an economic miracle. They gave their children everything--except for one thing. They did not give them their broken hearts. And their children have never forgiven them."
The next morning, as we took our seats after the Elm Dance, I was relieved to see that all fifty had returned. Behind us, still taped to the walls, hung the drawings of the previous afternoon, the sketches of the trees, and the slashing Xs that barred the way to the trees. "It was hard yesterday," were my opening words. "How is it with you now?"
The first to rise was the woman who had expressed the greatest anger, the mother of the two daughters. "I hardly slept. It feels like my heart is breaking open. Maybe it will keep breaking again and again, I don't know. But somehow--I can't explain--it feels right. It connects me to everything and everyone, as if we were all branches of the same tree."
That afternoon the grief broke open.
It happened unexpectedly, at the close of a guided meditation in which I invited these people of Novozybkov to connect with their ancestors and harvest their strengths. Moving through the room, as on a vast wheel turning, they went backward in time through all preceding generations, with Yuri's voice guiding them. Then they stopped and moved forward, retracing their steps through time, in order to gather the gifts of the ancestors. But when we came up to the year 1986, they balked. They did not want to come any further into the present. They refused to accept the horror of what happened to them then--and that very refusal compelled them to speak of it.
Talk exploded, releasing memories of that unacceptable spring: the searing hot wind from the southwest, the white ash that fell from a clear sky, the children running and playing in it, the drenching rain the followed, the rumors, the fear. Remember how it was? Remember, remember? I saw you standing in your doorway, watching. Our team had laid out paper and colored pencils for people to draw the gifts they'd harvested from the ancestors, but now there was one theme only. A number of the drawings featured trees, and a road to the trees, and across the road a barrier, or a large X, blocking the way.
When we finally reassembled in one large circle, the good feelings that had grown during the workshop shattered into anger, now directed at me. "Why have you done this to us?" a woman cried out. What good does it do? I would be willing to feel the sorrow--all the sorrow in the world--if it could save my two little daughters from cancer. Each time I look at them I wonder about tumors growing inside them. Can my tears protect them? What good are my tears if they can't?"
Angry, puzzled statements came from all around me. Our time together had been so good until now, so welcome a respite from what their lives had become; why had I spoiled it?
Listening to them all, I felt deeply chastened and silently blamed myself for my insensitivity. What, now, could I possibly say? To lecture on the value of despair work would be obscene. When I finally broke the silence that followed the long outburst, I was surprised that the words that came were not about them or their suffering under Chernobyl, but about the people of Hannelore and Anastasia.
"I have no wisdom with which to meet your grief. But I can share this with you: After the war that almost destroyed their country, the German people determined they would do anything to spare their children the suffering they had known. They worked hard to provide them a safe, rich life. They created an economic miracle. They gave their children everything--except for one thing. They did not give them their broken hearts. And their children have never forgiven them."
The next morning, as we took our seats after the Elm Dance, I was relieved to see that all fifty had returned. Behind us, still taped to the walls, hung the drawings of the previous afternoon, the sketches of the trees, and the slashing Xs that barred the way to the trees. "It was hard yesterday," were my opening words. "How is it with you now?"
The first to rise was the woman who had expressed the greatest anger, the mother of the two daughters. "I hardly slept. It feels like my heart is breaking open. Maybe it will keep breaking again and again, I don't know. But somehow--I can't explain--it feels right. It connects me to everything and everyone, as if we were all branches of the same tree."
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