The Last Snowfall

Private

I'm seriously considering going private for a time.  At the very least, going on hiatus for a while.

I still have so much to say:

• about my belief that most reparative therapy is unnecessarily lobotomizing, cleverly packaged, subtly emotionally manipulative mind tricks with good intentions, 
• about my continuing support for those who choose alternative-alternative lifestyles such as mixed-orientation marriages as long as they're being honest with themselves and their spouses (yes, maybe even to a level not required of other couples because of the circumstances and assumed risks), 
• about my own persisting desire to have a wife and kids, 
• about my skepticism that I can do so without being a bit selfish and/or losing myself (sorry, friends, I haven't liked the all of changes I've seen in those who have taken that route, even if they believe they are as happy as anyone), but still wondering whether losing myself a little might be worth the trade-off, and questioning whether I'm fully engaged in the relationship if I've tucked part of myself under the rug, but figuring maybe that's my spouse's choice to make, and reminding myself maybe I wouldn't lose myself at all or would but could also find lost parts of myself and maybe I can't know any of this until I try,
• about my questions as to whether the only truly selfless path, for me, is to never have children,
• about my theory that gay male culture began as a snowball of men who, because of the outright rejection of all homosexuality back in the day, left their jobs, families, and religions, and therefore had nothing left to lose and threw out the baby with the bathwater regarding commitment in relationships and standards of behavior, how gender roles and male physiology may come into play to magnify seed-sowing or gratification behavior without the tempering influence of women (who have higher risk of investment in promiscuity),  and how there seems to be a trend, slow as it may be, towards stabilization and maturation of gay culture in general as it re-assimilates certain values and relationship perspectives, 
• about my theory that gender constructs are malleable and based primarily on what traits happen to be generally predominantly found among males or females of our own species and how pockets of nature challenge notions of inherently "female" or "male" roles, and whether we can actually tweak what is considered "masculine" and "feminine" evolutionarily by adjustments to social/cultural ideas around gender and who ends up pairing off and having offspring, and whether education of those concepts might naturally, gently push the population in that direction, and ethical questions around what I guess I'd call social engineering,
• about wondering who my reader from a particular government office is, or the one from some studio in Cali,
• about my increasing belief that there is meaning, beauty, and optimism in life and the universe with or without a god or gods, 
• about what might become if our actual, physical communities and 'tribes' reassumed the roles which religion clearly dominates now and therefore seems uniquely positioned to provide but isn't necessarily inherently so but might be because of its acute and structured appeal to supernal emotion and ideation, 
• about how I'm full of crap trying to sound intelligent by forming sentences like the last one and how more intellectually honed people readily perceive it, 
• about what "light in your eyes" is really all about and how I think it has little to do with "having the Spirit" based on my experience and observation,
• about my increasing belief that the church is useful in a way and a great model of community in some key ways but doctrinally arbitrary/fantastical and possibly irreparably socially ill in others, 
• about my love of fireplaces and how that might be one of the top three elements I want in my home, 
• about my current, somewhat surprising happiness despite enormous stress and possibly very limited prospects for the future, 
• about my somewhat whimsical desire to go completely off the radar for a year and work as a baker in Italy or join some Spanish commune, 
• about the hot cop I saw at a Panda Express on Monday and how I figured coming on to an ambiguous police officer having lunch with his police officer friends was probably not the wisest thing in the world to do (a wise friend pointed out it's generally unwise to come on to men with guns),
• about the frank and clarifying conversation I had with someone close to me about the gay marriage debate and how I realized there is probably no true reconciliation to be reached on the issue on a legal/political level, even if I still believe there should be, because it's fundamentally about the subjective definition of marriage and whether someone believes God and predominant thought define it or that it is only defined as it is because of limited, flawed, evolving understanding,
• about the conversation I had with a pretty typical male on the subject of whether physical violence is an appropriate response to unwanted advances and how the genders of the one coming on and the one being come on to affect the appropriateness of the response, and how I think tempering gut reactions (physical violence and disgust when a man comes on to a straight man in no more offensive a way than a woman might) with conscious processing is as clear an example of 'overcoming the natural man' as any,
• about my frustration with having to constantly cater to the "majority" and their constructs, accept their lack of vision (yes, I know how arrogant saying this may seem) as somehow authoritative just because they think or were wired more like each other than I do/am like them, and abide by their change-resistant rules for the sake of arbitrary stability at the expense of progress when I think the balance between stability and progress has room to be tilted toward progress in many aspects, 
• about family dynamics and some realizations I've had regarding how certain family members' outspoken views throughout my life have significantly colored my own self-perceptions and my perceptions of others growing up, 
• about how belief may come down to choosing what to believe rather than figuring out what is concrete truth and why not to choose the pretty stories (even if they come with some ugly ones) just in case they're true or why someone would choose to believe in a godless universe and how it's not the bleak, meaningless perspective I, for one, always thought it was,
• about the sustainability of morality not based on authoritarian deity and arbitrary constructs/dogma,
• about discovering, with a fun smirk, that a long-time crush-from-afar was not one-directional, even though clearly nothing is going to be done about it,
• about tying up loose ends, moving on, and feeling good about it, 
• about my favorite recently watched movies and snippets of music, 
• about the joys of public transportation and quirky bus stories,
  
• about wanting to find more between the closeted angst and hypocritical repression of Utah gay men hopelessly attached to their stifling religious community and beholden to family expectations and the swishing and brazen flippancy of Seattle gay men hopelessly attached to their licentious sexuality community and withering in empty individualism,
  
• about the moment my friend's toddler son sweetly touched the cheek of a guy I was dating and cared about very much when he found the two of us bundled in a blanket together at my friend's house, the flicker of hope I smiled at that maybe he'd warm up to the idea of having kids someday (with whomever, not necessarily with me, though I admit I kinda liked the idea), and how--when I asked if my friend was OK with us being affectionate around the boy (just leaning on each other)--my friend said it was good for him to be exposed to us,
• about my prayer experiments from years ago,
• about my story of experiences with homosexuality and with the church, told as two separate but connected stories, from childhood to now, in several audio installments, some of which I already recorded months ago,
• about feeling like I've had a good love and not feeling the need to try to top it or supplant it for now because despite the pain and anger around how it ended, I still feel satisfied and filled, maybe permanently changed, and at least for now content in a way I'm not sure I can describe, and it's time to focus on other things for now,
• about my mission journal and the ways it all fits, maybe even better, within a completely different perspective than I had then, and the code I wrote into it in case someone else read it and I didn't want them to know what was hidden behind the words, and what it has reminded me of that I'd forgotten and can't honestly ignore,
• about the book I'm reading, The Happiness Hypothesis, and the many ideas I'm loving from it which reflect and support my own realizations and questions and the questions it has magnified about my own probably kinked psyche,
• about the fact that...I might take that hypothetical pill if it were offered, after all, but without shame...
• ...about this and more, far too much to try to explain fully here and now.

I'm feeling a desire to just take it all private, visible to only myself.  If I did write more about all of this, I'd want to give it due attention and do it justice.  And readers would surely react and misconstrue and jump to conclusions and ask questions and challenge and confirm, which would leave me wanting to clarify and refine and tease apart emotion from reason, conviction from suspicion, and questions from assertions...and even after all of that, it all seems so pointless sometimes that I shrug and say to the world, "You do your thing, and I'll do mine."

I see blogs which appeal to more lusty appetites gain zealous followers quickly, while my favorites are generally not hugely popular, being not nearly sensational or provocative enough, nor party-line-toeing enough, to appeal to the comforted masses.  Maybe I prefer that kind of company though.  Maybe I want to get away from the mobs anyway, despite missing certain aspects of the community they tend to carry.  In any case, it seems this little blog most likely won't make any lasting, actual difference outside of me, and I have been questioning whether my energy would be better redirected as I evaluate my probably nearly half-over vital life.  Please, no bites on supposed fishing line here, I'm talking about what's best for me, not lamenting and insisting I'll go eat worms.

In many ways, I've been closing chapters of my life, and as I've done so, I've hit a realization: I'm not sure I'm interested in writing the next chapters of this book.  I may be more interested in starting another book altogether and setting this one aside for now, maybe coming back to it someday.  If I'm honest with myself, I probably can't completely set it aside.  I'll probably just journal instead of publish for a while.  Maybe I'll never compile all of these thoughts into something cohesive to publish in book form.  Maybe I'll quit blogging with the hopes that this little, mostly undiscovered nook of cyberspace will become a compendium of my journey which might positively impact at least one person in some non-negligible way.  Maybe I'll keep blogging as usual with or without a hiatus.  Yeah, probably that last option, with a little of the others mixed in.

I'm looking forward to a future "download" feature to install in my brain.  I hope neuroscience advances quickly to enable that.  That'll be fun.  But for now, even if for only a symbolic night or two, I'm taking a vacation...I think...ah, heck.  All I know for sure is that I'm going to slip into a deep sleep induced by the powers of prescription cough syrup.  Ah, yes, I feel it.  That "good luck waking up sooner than 147 hours from now" feeling as Vienna Teng lulls me.  Mmm...



Note from the  next morning: that was trippy...as I listened to some of my favorite Vienna Teng bedtime songs, like 'Lullabye for a Stormy Night' and 'The Last Snowfall', it was like I was living in slow motion, like the short songs which always end too soon were extended far beyond their usual length, and it was so satisfying.  Perhaps there are ways to slow down life without codeine... :-)

Hard to get

Some of you have requested to add Original Mohomie as a friend on Facebook.  I'll share with you my textual conversation with someone who shall go unnamed regarding O-Mo's presence on Facebook:

someone who shall go unnamed: Facebook just recommended original mohomie as a friend. Is that your way of outing everyone?

O-Mo: Lol, I created the account as a test for something, and I've gotten a few requests. I love that I now can look at o-mo's recommended friends for a quick and easy list of "family". I get a chuckle from it every time.

someone who shall go unnamed: I just requested his friendship. We'll see what happens.

O-Mo: Ha, I might just cave and add people, but I don't know...what for... :-)

someone who shall go unnamed: Oh so you haven't accepted any requests yet? What were you wanting to test?

O-Mo: I was going to create a page for the blog, to see if posts could be shared on Facebook...and show new posts on feeds, but then I realized people might have to be fans do [sic--should be "for"] it to work, which--let's be honest--would be a really limited audience. I abandoned it but kept the account just in case. Meh.

someone who shall go unnamed: And now you have a bunch of homos thinking o-mo is playing hard to get.

***Rest of conversation censored***

So there you have it, folks. I'm not sure what I intend to do with the profile, but for now, I haven't added anyone as friends. I'm not sure why I would, to be honest, except as a way to make my blog more accessible to more people who might say, "Who is this 'Original Mohomie' my friend is friends with? Oh, he has a blog. Let me click and see what the blog is about. Oh, my..."

*shrug*

Atheist Christmas Carol

If I recall correctly from when I first heard her perform this years ago, she said she named it this for lack of a better name, because it was a song about the Christmas season but having nothing to do with the religious aspect.  Ha, it's a beautiful song, whatever the name origin.  Gosh, I wanna sit down with her sometime.

Christmas Carols

I've added a few of my favorite Christmas carols or Christmastime songs, with a secular bent, below.  There are others I'd add if Playlist.com had them available, including more religious ones, like Sarah McLachlan's or Sissel's In the Bleak Midwinter, or Amy Grant's Grown-up Christmas List or The Night Before Christmas.  I still can't help but love the beauty of certain more strictly religious Christmas carols, too, like certain performances of O Holy Night and Angels from the Realms of Glory, and maybe even Joy to the World or What Child is This?, etc.  My favorite Christmas albums include those by Sarah McLachlan, Diana Krall, Harry Connick, Jr, Sissel w/the Mo-Tab, Amy Grant, Johnny Mathis collection...ah, heck, there are several, but those first four are my current faves.  The ones that make me all nostalgic and bring back the childlike magic of Christmas, though, are the ones I remember hearing as a kid, and in my home, I think those were mostly the old crooners and a few cheesy duets and such.  Good times.

Decorating delight

I really like decorating for the holidays.  Growing up, I always decorated a lot for Halloween and Christmas.  Halloween lost its charm for me several years ago, though it has revived a bit.  But Christmas was a mainstay.  Last year, though, I wasn't really 'into' Christmas so much.  Now that I'm  some distance from my first realization that Christmas's meaning was likely to shift drastically for me, I'm enjoying the season again without so much concern that it's now a hollow shell of what it was, or that it no longer belongs to me and I therefore am wrong to embrace it, or that celebrating it implies support of religious beliefs I don't share.  Its essence remains, and I'd just as soon let the warmth and spirit of the season in rather than push it away because of the religiosity from which it was formed.

I stayed at a friend's house last night which I helped decorate a week or two ago.  It was fun to help put out the candles and scented pine cones and to decorate the tree.  It did make me long for a family of my own to decorate with someday, but in a more sweet than bitter way, and I enjoyed sharing the festivity with a fellow single friend.  I have to say, I love bundling up on the couch in the warm light of a Christmas tree with a snow storm blustering outside.  It's magical.  And I smiled last night at the red and white and brown on the tree backed by the red-and-white-capped Space Needle in the distance out the window.  It looks like a Santa hat on top.  Fun.

Ha, I'm listening to my "secular Christmas music" playlist which I had previously separated out to have the real Christmas music for playing on Sundays and most of the season.  I've become one of those secular Christmas people.  It's different, and I may tweak it over time, but it's still good.  And even if I don't necessarily believe the story the holiday is based on, I love the principles it stands for to so many, Christian and otherwise.  I'm aware the historical integration of pagan practices and celebration wasn't so much to share as to convert or assimilate, and part of me consciously resists that assimilation, but I'd like to think that today it's a holiday Christians have developed and share with the world to share the spirit of their rejoicing over salvation and God's generosity, and maybe it's OK to celebrate the principles and values of generosity, family, wonder, illumination, and love alongside those whose reasons are religious.  Rationale aside, I like the season, and I think I'll keep it for now.

So, from this agnostic, Merry Christmas!

Seeking constructive authenticity

Sometimes people insist happiness is found in putting on a smiling face even when things suck and just fakin' it 'til you make it. I used to reject that for different reasons than I do now. It was hard to fake it. It wasn't natural, and it took effort, and I wanted to be mad, dammit!

Then I discovered that my heart was calmer when I decided consciously to not get upset or annoyed at things which were upsetting or annoying. I learned very quickly that people like being around smiley people, and they struggle to be around grumpy people. It became more important to be pleasant and lift others than to stew and fester. And I truly thought this was a better way, and I scoffed at people who implied I was being dishonest. I was just choosing to react in constructive ways rather than playing the victim or letting my circumstances control me. What was productive about bemoaning my fate and whining? Nothing. I only saw a dichotomy of that vs. choosing to believe everything was hunky dory.

Then I started realizing how much emotional undercurrent I was building up without ever having realized it, while I had actually specifically rejected the idea that that was happening, until it became very clear that I wasn't actually resolving things internally but was just sweeping them under the rug. Perhaps if I were someone who cared less about full resolution, or finding answers beyond the surface, that might not have built up, or I might not have noticed it. But I did. In addition, I saw the repercussions of people judging themselves based on what they see in others, what others portray about themselves, and the damage done when people don't understand how thoroughly human and flawed everyone else is, not just them.

I started to value authenticity and honesty more than maintaining a "pleasant", or pleasing, persona which is masked enough to avoid upsetting anyone. I started valuing honestly admitting when things weren't great more than ignoring the unpleasant. I started to see something between the dichotomy: that you can accept the reality and accept your sadness or pain to the extent that it actually spurs you to find the positive, to learn, or to act in response. I started realizing the friendships I valued most were with those who admitted when they were failing, upset, hurt, or feeling broken, because I knew they were 'real', and I cared about them and wanted to help them and wouldn't want them to suffer quietly and alone but would rather know their downs as well as their ups, to rejoice, to mourn, to walk with them. I also probably knew I wasn't ready for that level of authenticity and was fascinated by it. But I was OK. I'd be fine. I could handle my crap. It was nothing as bad as so-and-so's, after all. And I certainly didn't want to become a burden to anyone.

It wasn't until I realized the significance of being someone else's support and investing in trying to lift them up that I started considering whether I ever gave anyone else the opportunity to love me in that way. And it was then I started considering that maybe I needed it, too. I felt good about having been emotionally self-sufficient, but I was beginning to accept that some of my feelings of alienation and relationship tension were probably a result of layers of undercurrent emotions I refused to really acknowledge because they weren't happy, positive, feel-good emotions. I had denied them because I didn't see any purpose in acknowledging them.

I guess I don't quite know how to explain why I decided it was important to acknowledge them and let them be rather than stifling them, but I can say my sense of peace and authenticity, of wholeness and stability, have greatly improved since I started letting myself be angry when I'm having a reasonable reaction to something, or even when it's irrational. It takes more work than my childhood anger, of course. It's not stewing. It's a more cognitive awareness that whether or not it seems rational, I'm feeling this, and there's some reason for it, and there's probably something to learn from it. Or maybe there's a way to channel the energy of it into something constructive I wouldn't otherwise have done. Or maybe I'll just fume for a while and be over it rather than having a bottled-up anger inside of me which I then have to quell with plastered layers of faux cheer.

I forget sometimes, though, when dealing with others, that not everyone gets that, or not everyone processes their emotions the way I do, or they do it with less frankness, believing it to be their burden to bear and their responsibility to cope themselves without letting others know. Others might see my refusal to mask as laziness, letting the emotion win out, or wallowing, because they don't understand that to actually process requires even more effort than either submitting to or masking or ignoring them, and that I don't see value in acting falsely enthusiastic just to hide. Some may even take it personally when I don't hide the fact that I'm generally irritated. It's not my fault when others 'tell themselves stories' about my emotional state. There are some people who just take everything personally, and there's not much I'm going to try to do about that. That's their issue. But in general, I don't want to make others more uncomfortable than I need to, and there are times when I have to honestly ask myself whether I've misdirected some anger or frustration onto an individual or unintentionally made it seem so. So I seek a synthesis of raw authenticity and the perceptions of others, of frank expression and diplomatic or constructive communication, and I think it's possible. Until I'm perfect, though, I'll butt heads with people here and there. C'est la vie.

The relationships I've most valued are those where we're able to be frank and even blunt with each other without being abusive or harsh, and I value that too much to indefinitely play or even endure the pussy-footing games most people seem to prefer or the attitude that a smile is always better than a tear. Bullcrap. I want to know you. I want to see you, not what you think I want to see. But then, maybe as I look back to years ago and realize what I wasn't admitting even to myself, maybe I'll look back at now and see masks I didn't realize I was wearing. I'll try taking off my masks if you'll try taking off yours...oh, shoot, someone's gotta go first, right? *sigh*

A feeling washed over me

It'd been a very long time since I'd felt such a familiar, bright warmth wash over me from head to toe. I didn't expect it to come while waiting for a friend to pick out running clothes at The North Face store.

There are a few times in my life I remember having experiences or feelings of a similar kind and magnitude. These were all quite unexpected experiences in otherwise mundane moments. I would be thinking or reflecting almost inadvertently, and the feeling caught me off guard, washing over and through me, picking up my heart and even making it race a little as if to say, "Hey, that thought you just had is not just a casual thought or passing notion: it's something to really pay attention to! It's truth." This came with a feeling so replete with hope and peace, accompanied by what I can only describe as a compelling and surreal clarity towards the future which only time could really confirm or explain but which felt significant. I ascribed religious meaning to them, or at least 'spiritual' meaning: I believed them to be 'of the Spirit', bringing the fruits described in Galatians and carrying a powerfully revelatory, inspirational vibe. They were those moments I couldn't help but make note of and allow to be imprinted on my heart, lest I should forget them completely. I've typically journaled them in some way.

So it was this weekend. Saturday, and I was standing in The North Face store at a local shopping complex, waiting for a friend to try on some running clothes. Not being particularly engaged by the shop's selection, I propped myself up against a rack as my mind wandered to matters other than what was right in front of me, as it often does. I got thinking about one of my all-time favorite movies, Wit. Again, it wasn't anything profound or earth-shattering, just some ideas and reflections floating around, and suddenly, that animating warmth washed through me from head to toe, bringing peace, light, and clarity of feeling just as it had the last time I remember experiencing it to that degree, some time ago.

It was as clear to me as anything that this was just what I'd felt before, when I believed such was of God, confirming truth to me through the Spirit. I was a bit taken aback by the onset of this familiar, illuminating, accentuating, serenely confident feeling I had previously thought of as a 'spiritual' thing. I couldn't help but smile softly, quietly to myself, close my eyes, and take it in. I thought, "Well, isn't that interesting? I don't even necessarily believe in a literal God, and what I was thinking about didn't really have anything to do with things religious or spiritual, but I was thinking of something very meaningful to me and close to my heart, and here's this feeling, in the middle of a clothing store." As I thought, another wave washed over me. I didn't try to interpret it, assign meaning to it, deconstruct it, dismiss it, or make it into a prophecy, as much as I have to admit, in full candor, I would have loved for it to be a confirmation of what I was thinking about. I just let it fill me and make me smile. I took the warmth in. I allowed the peace. I set aside muddying it with speculative meaning and explanation in the moment, but I still tried to "listen" to what it might be telling me, whether from within or from without.

I know many would think me a fool not to readily and unquestioningly accept this as a divine manifestation and clear evidence of spiritual learning, that is, if they didn't know what I was thinking about. If they did know, they'd probably either say it was emotion rather than the Spirit, or they might come up with a way of making it fit into their doctrinal understanding. But I have my own ideas about it, even while acknowledging that I can't necessarily fully explain it. I can't, couldn't, deny I felt it. But it's mine, and it's not anyone else's to "explain" or beat me over the head with. What I was thinking about is something I'll keep to myself. Some things are still sacred. And that's nice to know.

Tragically Canadian sensibilities

I think I have them, and I think it's not so tragic. Just sayin'.

Learning from transcribing

I've resumed transcribing my mission journal, now that I'm done with my post-mission journal. I suppose there's plenty left after that: letters, tapes, etc. I'll probably have to draw the line somewhere. In order to get it all done, I'd probably have to get rich and hire someone or wait for scanning-to-transcription or audio analysis transcribing software to improve, or be written, or become cheap, or...something. But for now, it's really interesting to learn and remember from the process of doing it myself and remember my old thoughts, to recall my interpretations and feelings and see how they fit into a different or broader perspective now or to know what was going on in the back of my mind but which I dared not write down at the time.

If I posted some of the stuff I've written, I'm sure some people would scoff at my current agnosticism or re-evaluation of my past "testimony," or some might marvel at how I could possibly have "lost faith" or "forgotten" some things, but it fits, even though it might take a while to describe exactly how. And then, who knows, maybe I'll eventually reach some synthesis of old and new or reform my views again. So it goes. In any case, I'm enjoying the journey.

What I can't offer...

I used to think it was sadly limiting and confining that some people thought human relationships were the pinnacle of existence when they had no idea how much better it was to have a relationship with God first and foremost (I hadn't considered "God" actually might literally be love, and one's own conviction of principles of happiness and personal morality, etc), so now I am sometimes afraid to express my personal experience with same-sex romantic love or my own hope in future partnership within LDS circles because it may only confirm that I have forgotten that there's better out there, that I'd be trading eternity for temporal contentment. The times I've fallen in love would, I fear, be automatically diminished by belief that eternal joy is not found in such love, or (more nuanced believers might distinguish) such relationships.

Thinking about it conjures the gut-wrenching feelings which knotted my stomach when someone told me he didn't want to pursue dating me anymore, that he wanted to find happiness in fighting the struggle, that he couldn't face a lifetime of questioning and wanted conviction. I could tell by the way he said it that I'd already lost him, and I wanted to respect his decision, so I didn't bother trying to argue. I didn't insist that I have as much or more conviction now as ever, that it's in different things that I had overlooked for so long, that it's in principles I'd masked with doctrines and rules...and...and... I was sure it wouldn't matter anyway. Knowing him and the dynamics of his situation, the grandiosity of eternal vision and righteous conviction offered by the religion he had been questioning and the organization he had just been introduced to were too great a temptation to withstand at the expense of harmonious family relationships and appealing community I knew and had left behind. Surely, it was more seductive or, if you prefer, promising, than any mere companionship, love, or personal investment I could offer for this life only. The lifelong love of a mere man versus the eternal joy and glory of godhood. Great. No contest.

I understood that to those who believe in LDS doctrine, he made a valiant choice to sacrifice something he wanted for something he wanted more and that his choice would be rewarded in eternity. 'To be completely honest,' the fact that he made that choice was a reflection of exactly one of the things I loved so much about him. Ah, the irony. I also understood that, from a popular LDS perspective, no human relationship is worth trading one's relationship with God or one's eternal potential. That operates, of course, under the assumption/belief not only that God exists but that to choose same-sex companionship in this life is, in fact, forfeiting one's relationship with God or one's eternal potential.

But to me, having doubted the existence and/or nature of God or at the very least whether God's sanctioning and condemning of relationships is as cut and dry as 'the church' has believed, the promise of eternal glory for living a celibate life or finding a wife doesn't hold quite so much seductive power. So it felt a little like giving up a potentially wonderful relationship in favor of the promise of living with the elves in the Grey Havens: losing a glorious reality for a beautiful myth. The reality is that our relationship was yet to be seen, maybe no more a guarantee than the possibility that he might find happiness by himself or with a wife and live happily ever after. I understood that, but it was clear from my emotional reaction to the experience that I had insecurities or fears around it beyond the relationship. It was hard to accept the reality and painful to feel like he was choosing an illusory fantasy over the real and present me, and wondering if that's how it would always be with the kind of person I fall for.

I also understood that from the perspective of his faithful LDS parents, for example, he would have been making exactly that kind of trade if he were to have chosen to be with me: trading the reality of eternal life for the illusory fantasy of happiness through same-sex companionship. As much as I loved him, they loved him a lot longer, and surely far more deeply, than I had the chance to, and even if I believed their views to be distorted, I certainly didn't want our relationship to bring such pain upon others who dearly love him, or to strain the relationships which matter most. That was part of why there were some things I held back. I do believe a relationship shouldn't be bound or determined by the expectations and beliefs of others, but family is important to me, and I would just much rather not be the devil who led someone's son astray from salvation. That was a constant concern of mine in that relationship, and I'm very reluctant to knowingly take on that particular challenge again.

Though I've wondered whether it'd be hard to deal with a companion believing things I think are likely myths, there's also something I like about being with someone who just has a simple faith and believes things I may not fully agree with but which I can respect. I don't want someone who's just jaded and believes "life's a bitch and then you die", which seems to be the most common alternative. And I'm not attracted to people who are cavalier about principles or morality. I'm turned off by "whatever, I am what I am and everyone else can take a flying leap." I tend to be attracted to the types who seem to have the tendency to believe in "something more", which most often manifests as religious beliefs. Maybe it's because I am attracted to sensitive dreamers, or those who are a bit simpler in their outlook and prefer to just accept rather than question ideas they like, or...something. But my worry, after a couple of recent experiences, is that I will continually fall for those who can't handle my outlook, who want more religion in their lives.

I've tended to let the generalization of relationships like this focus my attention on what I cannot offer someone, and I think I shoot myself in the foot with that focus, confirming it in a self-fulfilling way. I worry that it could become a pattern: in the back of my mind, I figure I can't offer what the church offers, so I don't even bother 'competing', and I wait for them to realize that and go back to the soul-saving safety of church activity, which necessarily leaves me alone again. I briefly wondered, in the situation above, if things might have been different if I'd had my own coordinated effort to show the nourishment of positive philosophy, engagement in worthy causes, and connection with a community of supportive and truth-seeking people to offer some of those things the church offers. I realize how foolish that may sound when you believe it's man against God, that such efforts are empty without the power of the Spirit which can only be found within the gospel. It might seem diminutive to assert his decision was based on social psychology rather than on divine guidance. I respect that. And I concede that I probably don't fully know his reasons. Whatever the motives or reasons, he made the decision. I quickly decided it probably wouldn't have made a difference if I'd done certain things differently, that a relationship with me simply didn't offer what he decided he wanted, and it was pointless to speculate. But it did spur something in me.

I'm trying to remember what I do have to offer and to be ready to share that better the next time around. I'm trying to learn to better articulate what I do believe and voicing common ground and insights I've gained rather than highlighting primarily what I have stopped believing. I'm trying to identify traits, principles, and skills I think are really valuable to a relationship and some which are fairly unique, even if they do come with challenges. *wink* As I re-enter employment and work on sorting out what to do with myself professionally to become financially stable again, I think I'll be a pretty solid candidate for a "real" relationship in time.

But I'm also finding it to be a fairly difficult exercise because no matter how much I come up with, I can't quite shake the notion that I'll always fall for a certain kind of person who needs or wants what I can't offer, and the voices persist: "but you can't offer exaltation, or harmony with his family, or firm belief in God (which is still a huge deal in the U.S.), or an entire community of people assuring him he's righteous and going to a good place in heaven, or the rewarding feeling of being usefully engaged in service in a community which recognizes it, or 'conviction' of a dogmatic or institutional kind, or, or, or..."

For this reason and others, I'm not interested in dating right now. Not yet. I obviously have some things to sort out, myself. I wonder if I'll ever have enough sorted out to feel worthy of and ready for the kind of relationship I want? I certainly won't if I sit around wondering if I ever will. I suppose I need to tune out the nay-saying voices for now and focus on becoming better and building a life worth sharing.



...OK fine, I'll not leave this on a purely rhetorical note like I tend to do in my journal without acting on it. I have plenty of challenging personality traits a future companion would have to deal with, most of which come out in very unintentional ways, and I'm honestly not sure how many people could handle those. But as "they" say, I can't promise the sun, the moon, and the stars (especially not the [Celestial] sun), but I can promise such things as:

• abiding love,
  
• affection,
  
• laughter,
  
• communication,
  
• loyalty to the relationship,
  
• honesty,
  
• fiscal responsibility (...with exceptions...keep me in line *wink*),
  
• sincerity,
  
• conviction of principles,
  
• strong values,
  
• adaptability to change and others' needs,
  
• striving to stay physically fit and healthy,
  
• a thirst for truth,
  
• travel,
  
• appreciation of arts,
  
• fresh-baked goodies,
  
• trying new foods, movies, events, techniques...,
  
• love of the simple things,
  
• music,
  
• games,
  
• willingness to put partner's needs before my own comfort,
  
• always something to looking forward to,
  
• appreciation of the mysteries,
  
• respect for others' beliefs,
  
• family focus,
  
• love of children,
  
• strong friendships, and of course,
  
• quality spooning.

Hey, there's more, but I only have so much space here. *wink* Maybe I do have a lot to offer, at least to the person who's looking for the things I offer. For now, I'm gonna enjoy my bachelorhood and just keep working on adding significant and small items to that list...

*Le Sigh*

I was thinking I'd have to buy Whatever Works and watch it over and over again not just because I really liked it (I did) but primarily because of Henry Cavill. Now I've discovered he's in The Tudors, so I may have to keep watching...if it's not saturated with gratuitous sex scenes and bloody gore. Ah, *sigh*.

Wait, on second thought, while looking for images, I've realized certain angles remind me way too much of a completely not-attractive-to-me guy I knew in college. ...and he doesn't smile much in his candid photos, which is a shame because his smile is completely disarming, and he seems like a sourpuss boringhead. Sad story. I am a fickle, fickle man. It was lovely while it lasted, Henry. It's probably for the best, though. I shall always remember the chap who smiles and doesn't remind me of that college acquaintance.

Gay sex less morally wrong?

One day, I was talking with an acquaintance I'll call W who was struggling with questions around the church and reconciling W's own behaviors with church standards. W had never been a floozy. W, a straighty, had apparently always reserved physical expressions of affection for relationships in which there was genuine affection, appreciation, respect, personal relationship, and exclusivity. Even kissing was not taken lightly. But W was now wrestling with the fact that sexual intercourse seemed an option which felt right and natural to pursue even without marriage, and was wrestling with what that meant for church membership were it to be pursued, etc. When I heard this, perceiving my expression, W asked me if I was bothered by it, if I had a moral opposition even in my agnosticism.

I admitted I did, in fact, feel a repulsion to the idea, a moral opposition, if you will. I said I didn't quite know why, whether I still had residual feelings about sex from my religious background (probably true), whether I was jealous (probably not), whether I had legitimate concerns (felt like I did). I said I did have a lot of trouble with people risking bringing a child into the world without a stable home in which to be raised and that it seemed selfish to knowingly take that risk. I said I think birth control is fine, but what about the exceptions where it doesn't work? I have strong feelings against abortion, particularly when it basically amounts to killing an accidental life because it's not as important as a night of fun was.

W insisted that sex would still only be for a relationship which could become a stable home if necessary, and abortion would never be an option, but W would take every precaution to make sure pregnancy was nothing but a remote possibility, like using both birth control pills and a condom. I retorted, "Then why not wait until the decision to make it a stable home has been made consciously, and the home established, rather than forced and rushed by an accident?" We explored these ideas.

I realized most of my feelings around the appropriateness of sex have to do with a couple of things, not necessarily in any order: 1) the possibility of making a baby, 2) the health risks, and 3) the emotional consequences of each party involved (which is directly connected to the actual intimacy, honesty, and commitment in the relationship, what other relationships each party is involved in, the chemical/hormonal physiology and emotional/mental responses during sex which lead to bonding, and the risks thereof, each person's perceptions of what sex is and what it "means" in their relationship, etc). I also realized that (2) and (3) apply to same-sex relationships as much as mixed-sex, though they may have different factors involved, and (1) is completely irrelevant in gay sex. I also realized that (1) is a really big factor in my views on sex.

I felt somewhat hypocritical for telling W to refrain when I felt less obligated to do so, all else being equal, given certain conditions such as intimacy, commitment, and clean test results. Then I realized a man and woman can pretty much do anything a man and a man could do, although they're somewhat limited in the roles they can take, but two guys or two girls can't really do that one thing a guy and a girl can do. So I felt less hypocritical and thought, "Hey, I may never do that, so you can certainly wait until marriage to do it and find other things to keep busy with in the meantime..." Then I chuckled to myself, shrugged, and carried on talking with W.

The lingering thought remained, "So wait...if a huge part of the morality of having sex is knowingly risking creating a child without having first built a stable parenthood for that child because two people wanted to get off more than they thought or cared about the possible life they might create...wouldn't that make gay sex actually less abominable than hetero sex? Or are there other reasons other than disgust for homosex being seen as so terribly awful by so many religious adherents? And you gotta admit, seeing gay sex as less morally wrong than hetero sex does seem a little convenient for a gay dude." With a smirk, I thought that yes, that was pretty convenient, but yes, I'm still a prude, so I'm tragically not enjoying the benefits of this convenience. And no, that's not an invitation. I like my prudity, thankyouverymuch.

Don't think about homosexuality!

From a book I'm currently reading titled The Happiness Hypothesis, by Jonathan Haidt (someone I think I'd like to have a good sit-down conversation with in consideration of pursuing a similar career):

"In [Dan] Wegner's studies, participants are asked to try hard not to think about something, such as a white bear, or food, or a stereotype.  This is hard to do.  More important, the moment one stops trying to suppress a thought, the thought comes flooding in and becomes even harder to banish. In other words, Wegner creates minor obsessions in his lab by instructing people not to obsess. Wegner explains this effect as an “ironic process” of mental control.

When controlled processing tries to influence thought (“Don’t think about a white bear!”), it sets up an explicit goal. And whenever one pursues a goal, a part of the mind automatically monitors progress, so that it can order corrections or know when success has been achieved. When that goal is an action in the world (such as arriving at the airport on time), this feedback system works well. But when the goal is mental, it backfires. Automatic processes continually check: “Am I not thinking about a white bear?” As the act of monitoring for the absence of the thought introduces the thought, the person must try even harder to divert consciousness. Automatic and controlled processes end up working at cross purposes, firing each other up to ever greater exertions. But because controlled processes tire quickly, eventually the inexhaustible automatic processes run unopposed, conjuring up herds of white bears. Thus, the attempt to remove an unpleasant thought can guarantee it a place on your frequent-play list of mental ruminations.

Now, back to me at that dinner party. My simple thought “don’t make a fool of yourself” triggers automatic processes looking for signs of foolishness. I know that it would be stupid to comment on that mole on his forehead, or to say “I love you,” or to scream obscenities. And up in consciousness, I become aware of three thoughts: comment on the mole, say “I love you,” or scream obscenities. These are not commands, just ideas that pop into my head. Freud based much of his theory of psychoanalysis on such mental intrusions and free associations, and he found they often have sexual or aggressive content. But Wegner’s research offers a simpler and more innocent explanation: Automatic processes generate thousands of thoughts and images every day, often through random association. The ones that get stuck are the ones that particularly shock us, the ones we try to suppress or deny. The reason we suppress them is not that we know, deep down, that they’re true (although some may be), but that they are scary or shameful. Yet once we have tried and failed to suppress them, they can become the sorts of obsessive thoughts that make us believe in Freudian notions of a dark and evil unconscious mind.

Now, I'm pretty certain there's much more to this than I'm grasping, and I've questioned a couple of assertions in the book so far, and I totally understand that half-a...nkled knowledge is dangerous because it opens one up to all kinds of misapplication and willy nilly interpretation.  That conceded, this concept from the book highlights much of why I think it's a fairly naive notion to "deal with" homosexuality by ignoring it or trying to minimize it.  I also have my thoughts about how this relates to the popular LDS idea that Satan spends most of his effort trying to trip up the most righteous (I've long thought of that notion as a story to explain a quite natural phenomenon), or how I think there's a balance between accepting what is while working towards worthy goals rather than settling for mediocrity just because to reach for higher is 'hard', but those are side-notes.  I'm even interested in whether the same or a similar phenomenon applies to atheists who are repulsed but fascinated by religion and end up converting to one because they just couldn't deny that "something" was pulling them towards it, which of course is very faith-confirming to already-believers.  I know, I know, so devilish of me to even consider such a notion.

But in my experience and observation, as well as my conceptualization, I think it's not about whether we think about homosexuality, as I don't believe that's even an option on the table: you're going to think about it whether you admit it or not.  I think those who believe they never think about it have essentially, unnecessarily lobotomized themselves.  You know the kind, the ones whose personality you swear is in there somewhere but which you can't seem to access.   What I think it is about is how we think about "it", and how we respond to it.

For you fundamentalists who might call me evil for proposing you not spend all of your effort trying not to think about homosexuality, or you activists who might think this is the sort of thing Evergreeners will never hear, I can attest that you'll hear from certain Evergreen presenters, even some whose overall philosophies I disagree with, that it's not about suppressing and forgetting about your homosexuality but accepting and working through it, processing it rather than sweeping it under the rug.  It's a well-recognized concept, and it's not foreign to or rejected by therapists of homosexuality.

Of course, I can also envision some people reading the above passage and seeing it as a quaint attempt to explain gospel truths we already know in science-speak to puff up man's pride (rather than believing it's a universal truth which people in all walks of life have noted, and which religious people explain with mythology and mysticism, and for which psychologists or other scientists are finding quantifiable explanations), or believing their homosexual feelings aren't "real" but are just scary thoughts they've magnified by obsessing on them.  And let's be honest, some people's "processing" ends up feeling an awful lot like sweeping under the rug.  But I think the principle many can agree on is: something you think is shameful is not going away magically by sheer will of "not thinking about it".

So...you, the same-sex attracted person: quick, don't think about homosexuality!




Anecdote: When I was in an Evergreen Conference presentation in which the speaker told us not to think about a white bear (come to think of it, I think that might be exactly the example he used...hey...is Jonathan Haidt, self-proclaimed progressive atheist, really a reparative sheep in wolf's clothing?...), a white bear immediately came to mind, of course, but I also immediately (split-second) made it go away by thinking about something else very specific (I forget what) and tuning out the speaker, until I decided I'd proven enough to myself and should probably listen to the speaker, at which point I'm pretty sure the white bear came prancing onto the stage of mind in a tutu.

They can't leave it alone!

Non-edited-down rambling warning

"Strange, how often defectors leave the Church, but they cannot leave it alone!"

- Neal A. Maxwell, All These Things Shall Give Thee Experience (1979)

This, and many variations of it, are ingrained in LDS traditional thought. I used to repeat it. I marveled that people would not just quietly go about their business as they left the church but seemed to be filled with anger towards the church, resentment for its teachings, bitterness towards the membership, or at the very least an insistence on constantly shoving down everyone's throats their reasons for believing it wasn't true. Surely, I thought, this was a testament to their loss of the Spirit and the emptiness of life without the gospel once you've known the truth.


INSTITUTE TEACHER'S APOSTASY

In my early-to-mid twenties, a very popular Institute teacher where I lived left the church in a bit of a fury. There were conflicts and butted heads with local leadership, huge friction with Church Education System leadership, and personal questions and doubts which became too much for him to ignore. He wrote a lengthy essay about his departure from the church. I identified to an extent, maybe more than I was willing to admit to anyone, including myself, but I shrugged and insisted to myself that his choice needn't be mine, and surely there may be answers waiting in the next life to some of the things we don't know and aren't meant to understand fully in our infantile spiritual state here on Earth. Even so, I cringed to hear people I loved and respected and who I knew enjoyed his instruction sum up his whole experience with the trite-feeling phrase, "Well, it's sad that he wasn't able to separate the people from the gospel." Yet I nodded in condescending pity for his descent into offense-induced deception. He became an outspoken anti-Mormon crusader. When I ran into him at the gym years later, I thought, "He seems upbeat but feels so worldly, and his eyes seem dimmer."

But I extrapolated something from his essay: one probable reason he couldn't seem to just leave it alone was because even though he still considered himself Christian, he believed he had wasted many, many years of his life believing, teaching, conforming to, and dedicating so much of his energy to a belief system (the LDS Church and many of its specific doctrines) which he now believed was an elaborate myth. I remember thinking, "Well gosh, even if he accepts responsibility for having believed it, that feeling could be enough to make even the best of us fight some serious resentment." I remember resolving that if I were ever to leave the church, which I hoped I would never decide was necessary and would work to guard myself against, I would accept responsibility for my own departure and "leave it alone". Then I'd quickly remind myself not to even think along those lines because to do so was to entertain a possibility of something too spiritually costly to even consider in passing, and I'd focus on the positive things I could do and think to stay or become better aligned with God.

Now, I understand much of why it can be so hard.


LEAVING IT ALONE

I do try to leave it alone, and I mostly succeed, exploring on my own and not bombarding my faithful friends or blog readers with my findings on one side of an argument or another. For a long time, I avoided having "the discussion" with friends because I didn't want to get into it. How am I supposed to summarize years of questions, doubts, and paradigm shifts in one conversation? How am I supposed to convey epiphanies, realizations, and perspectives I've experienced to someone who hasn't gone through the same? How am I supposed to explain cognitive dissonance, apparent logical fallacies or paradoxes, or historical conundrums without sounding like I'm 'justifying myself,' 'trying to tear down other people's faith,' 'looking for holes,' or 'overthinking' rather than 'focusing on the good' and 'letting the Spirit guide'? I wasn't trying to hide my agnosticism, but I didn't want to go around challenging the faith of others or seeking validation.


PUSHED TO RESPOND

But my hand has been forced several times when I would otherwise have remained silent on the issue. "Why haven't you been to church lately?" "Why the 'spiritual walkabout'?" "You know you know it's true, right?" "Aren't you just afraid to change?" "Aren't you just justifying what you want by choosing to doubt?" "Why did you break your temple covenant by not wearing your garments?" "You're choosing to lose Celestial glory, you know that, right?" "Can't you see that the church is not the people?" "Don't you think there will be some answers withheld until the next life?" "Why aren't your past spiritual experiences enough for you?" "How can you deny that you knew it was true? I heard you say it yourself on many occasions."

Those are all valid questions, especially if one assumes LDS doctrine is true. But to really, fully respond to them requires a conversation that may not end well and has been emotionally taxing on me when I've been in the throes of strong insecurities about how well my relationships will weather this life-altering change in beliefs. But when pressed, I've tried to be honest and forthright. For the most part, it's ended well, but in most cases, it's still very draining and trying to take the inevitable corrective blows with patience, dignity, and strength.


THE TEMPTATION

And it gets hard, at times, to "turn the other cheek" or to refrain from attacking a belief system which is so aggressively pushing itself into political issues which directly affect my relationships, or which so fully permeates local culture, or which intrudes into my own personal life through the beliefs and traditions of those all around me who I'd rather not alienate but who I wish understood and respected the fact that I am not interested in returning to the flock I very deliberately walked away from.

For example, I'm reminded outside the store that a random person who is swearing at the car ahead while blasting music and smoking with an infant in a car seat is somehow not only allowed but encouraged to marry and start a family and learn and grow along the way despite their apparently glaring imperfections, even if they're only married for life. But the church which I believed so firmly in and to whose message I dedicated so much of my energy for so many years is actively fighting to keep me from destroying society by marrying someone of the same sex like the person I fell for this summer and having children. In that moment, it's hard to shrug that off and whistle a merry tune and "leave it alone", even if the culture and political policy can be separated from the doctrine. But I try to shake it off, and I try to remind myself that it's not productive to find faults in others and make assumptions about their parenting or the welfare of their children based on incidental observations or appearance-based judgements. I also remind myself that almost nobody is actually saying the child abusing straight couple are better parents than a male partner and I would be, or that the white supremacist parents hold society together better than my partner and I would, that it's not so personal to them as it sometimes feels to me. I remind myself that there are active, faithful members of the church who support rights of same-sex marriage and adoption, even if they're a minority. And it helps focus my energy or temper my defensiveness.

For another example, when a friend is feeling like a defeated shell of a human being over a bad habit or his struggle to comply with a church standard, I want to slap him upside the head and tell him he's a great guy and that even if he behaves in ways which would be best removed from his life, there is absolutely no sense in thinking so poorly of himself when so much of his personality, life, and decisions are good and right. I can concede that if LDS doctrine is true, then he may lose some access to the Spirit or priesthood power when behaving in certain ways. But even if that's true, I can't buy that his effectiveness as a leader, father, husband, or whatever else he may be or become is completely negated or made 'unworthy' because of it, especially when contrasted with Plastic McPlasticson serving as the world's most self-righteous tyrant of a stake president who drains the life out of the gospel with his damned checklists. Dude, you're trying, and it's going to be a process. Yes, only those who aim for farther-reaching goals know what it's like to feel like a 'failure' for being 'normal'--it's totally understandable--but while there's no excellence in never striving to be better, there's also no energizing motivation or pure love in this kind of self-punishment. It's hard, when seeing someone you care about reduced to one habit or proclivity, not to resent the belief system behind the culture which promoted such unnecessary shame and self-loathing. But I remind myself that it's his personal issue as much as the church's, and that pure doctrine doesn't necessarily promote that perspective.

One more example: when someone who's been a significant presence in my family whose opinion I've cared about responds to my statement that I grew more in Utah than I did in Washington by reducing it to a simple, "But you went inactive there," it's hard to accept that, in her eyes, my four years of experiences, lessons learned, endeavors undertaken, personal growth, dreams realized, love felt, and relationships developed pale in comparison to whether or not I attend the LDS church. It's hard to reconcile that with, "We still love you no matter what your relationship with the church" because it feels like adding a caveat, "But we're still going to remind you at least once or twice a week that you need to come back, that we aren't going to let this go, and nothing in your life really matters next to that." It's difficult to simply reply, as patiently as I could muster, "We'll probably have to agree to disagree on whether that was a good direction." I remind myself that just because she didn't ask in that moment about the ways I believe I grew, it doesn't mean she doesn't care or that she only cares about my church life. Maybe I could do more to welcome them into the rest of my life. Maybe this is as much about me and my approach to my relationships as it is about her or her interpretations of doctrine, or about LDS teachings that church attendance is the one true indicator of a person's goodness. Relationships have necessarily changed, and we all have to adjust to that on a daily basis. It's an ever-present reminder of how things used to be, in contrast with how they are, but it's a two-way street.


IT WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE

So I'm normally able to consciously, deliberately quell emotional reactions or insecurities when reminded of the church's persistent, insistent presence or incidental unwelcome intrusion into my life. I recognize my own responsibility for bringing the church into my own life in some ways. I read news related to the church sometimes. I've cracked the LDS scriptures at times for various reasons. I've used the church's web site to research talks. I've voluntarily listened to a few conference sessions. I went to part of a Sunstone Symposium. I almost exclusively hang out with church members, active or less-so, believing or less-so, and fully understand the church will be part of conversations or prayers offered over food or before a road trip. I can leave the church, but unless I also entirely dismiss my past and leave my friends and family, the church won't leave me alone. And it's totally understandable because even when I am trying to just let the church be and not remind friends that I've left it, some casual comment I make might remind them, so in that sense, I'm not the only one being reminded when I didn't bring it up.


IMAGINE THE TABLES TURNED

The church and I are going to butt heads, and I just have to deal with that. But understand that for someone who's going through some major life changes, some of which are very stressful, it's not always easy to absorb the perceived blows without striking back at times. You may puzzle at why your loved one is being so defensive or hurt about their relationships with family and friends in the church, but remember that you are dealing with one person while that person is dealing with the majority of people in their life. Imagine if 75% of your friends and family decided, in the same year, that the church was false, and you believed in an elaborate hoax, and they made sure to remind you subtly of that in case you might come around and see it their way. You'd probably be a bit sensitive and tempted to strike back, too.


LEAVING IT BEHIND

I'm not going to pretend I haven't fought bitterness and wished religion would just dissolve entirely and stop polluting minds and relationships with its divisive constructs of classification and strait and narrow gateways used as loving clubs over the heads of the lost and fallen. But I remember what it was like to believe certain things, and how I truly, genuinely thought I didn't think less of others for disbelieving them, and I sincerely believed I meant well in "reminding" others of what I knew they knew. So I take a deep breath, I remember the good which comes of communities based on positive values and principles of healthy living, and I try to let go of what I don't agree with or forgive whatever wrongs I might perceive. And I feel better. Turns out forgiveness is good for the soul even if God has nothing to do with it.

So onward I go, trying to forge my own path, trying to nod to the friendly protesters lining my path and pointing insistently to theirs, acknowledging their concern while maintaining focus on what I believe are the most universal principles and are my own personal values.

I'm grateful for relationships with people who know I know what they believe and don't give in to the temptation to constantly remind me of it. I greatly appreciate those who seem to have firm "testimonies" of the restoration of the gospel, and the principles and ordinances thereof, but who also have listened to still, small voices which have told them not to worry, that it will be OK. I appreciate the belief of a few that they can't see all things any more than I can, and that though they firmly believe they are on 'the right path', and they may quietly believe I must rejoin it eventually, at least they seem to acknowledge that my journey may be customized, and I may be learning things I need to learn, and somehow, those of us who seek truth will all find the happiness we desire even if we do it in different orders, on different timelines, or even on different paths in ways none of us fully grasps with our feeble minds.

To the others, who can't seem to accept it, I don't need you to. Just understand that I may not submissively acknowledge your superior spirituality indefinitely. You can keep reminding me that you disapprove, or keep pressing, and we may have it out at some point. But hey, conflict can lead to growth, so even that can be positive in the end.

If I don't leave the church alone, it's probably because it won't leave me alone. But y'know, maybe completely leaving each other alone isn't required, as long as mutual respect for individual free agency and a right to disagree and voice disagreement is maintained. Besides, if the church did completely leave me alone, I might, in some way, actually feel less loved by the lack of people wishing I were walking with them, or trying to share their happiness, or being concerned for my welfare. How's that for sick and twisted? :-)

...But hold off on sicking the missionaries and home teachers on me just because I said that. More nagging doesn't equal more love and concern, mmK? MmK.

Elusive me

There is a possibly retreating part of me, readily tender, affectionate, and sensitive. Buried. Vulnerable. But very much present and alive when romantically involved with someone or 'in love'. I love that me, and it's that me that I probably mourn nearly as much as the relationship itself when a relationship ends, and he retreats again. I think that me should be accessible at other times, that I should be less of a curmudgeon more of the time, warm and cuddly with my nieces, for example, or truly vulnerable to a long-time friend. But there's something, some guard, that seems to only--or at least most fully--come down when romantically invested. I'm not sure I want it to come down with everyone. I'm not sure it should. Maybe it should more so with certain people. I just feel like there's something I have yet to figure out about this, like there's an elusive me yet to be more fully integrated, but I may not be willing or desirous to expose him, so I keep him locked away for my future spouse and children, where he will be free to express himself fully and justified in his affection, saved for special relationships to come. Maybe his retreat only bothers me when I wonder if I will be single my whole life and therefore keep him locked away to wither in neglect. He's sweet, and he's loving, but he might also be delicate, and I can't allow that fragility to disrupt my life and make my relationships messier. Or maybe I'm just imagining it all...

Carol Lynn Pearson's Mormon Stories Interview

I've been watching this over the last few days and really enjoying it. Carol Lynn Pearson definitely is one of the most prominent voices on the subject of homosexuality and the church between her books and her play and other efforts. In this several-part, several-hours-long interview on Mormon Stories with John Dehlin, she discusses her 'mixed-orientation marriage' with her gay husband and other personal views and experiences related to homosexuality and the church. She doesn't toe the church policy line on the subject, and she definitely has been more embraced by organizations like Sunstone than by organizations like Evergreen (I'm pretty sure many or most Evergreeners consider her to be subversive), but she definitely has her finger on the pulse of the issue. Her voice is more that of practical observation, personal experience, and philosophy than of a scientific researcher or future General Relief Society President, which I think many find refreshing. I guess I won't say much more than to recommend watching it for those who are interested in such perspectives.

I could've married a girl

No, really. I mean it. Stop laughing.

Before I continue, I'll just say that I am not, in any way, about to say any gay/SSA guy who marries a woman does so for the same reasons as mine or with the same factors. This is only my story, as I remember it.

I had opportunities. A couple of girls were basically ready to go if I were on board. We would have dated a while, and I'm pretty sure we could've married.

I did have this vague sense that somehow, it wasn't right. I wanted it to be. I wanted to have a family more than anything, and I wanted it to be with a righteous, faithful woman who would be a great mother and who loved God first and foremost, as I did, because we would both build our relationship on that love, that spirituality, that singular focus on the glory of God as we raised up a righteous posterity together. And I found such a girl. And another later. And I loved spending time with them. I loved being with them. I even enjoyed physical rough-housing with them as an excuse to be close without all the awkwardness of "making a move" or whatever. As far as I knew, what I felt was what people were supposed to feel when they fell for someone, and I was just hung up on commitment issues, or I might be asexual, or...something. I knew we'd make a great team, and I believed two righteous people could build a life and happy marriage together. I had faith that the Lord would bless us if we were doing everything for the right reasons. I tried to figure out what was missing, but since I couldn't quite figure it out, I held on to what was good and hoped something would come of my prayers and scripture study and talking with other guy friends and parents and that I would just be able to take a leap of faith and start officially dating exclusively. But I wondered why I didn't want to be closer, physically, when my friends were having so much trouble keeping their hands off of each other. I figured my love for these girls was more holy because it clearly had nothing to do with lust. I believed it when I was told how healthy and stable I was because I was so clear-headed about my relationships. I believed I was maybe just 'picky' to a fault.

I could've done it. Looking back, I believe we could have had a very happy life together. We would have had struggles, like all couples, and we both had plenty of growing to do, but we would have done it together. I had never fully faced, let alone vocalized, my attractions at those points in my life. But I know a lot of couples who went into marriages with more baggage than that and worked it out. I still wouldn't recommend starting a marriage that way. At this point, I couldn't fathom marrying someone I haven't been totally open with, someone whose personal questions I couldn't answer completely honestly. But not everyone feels that way, and back in the days I'm thinking of, including before and just after my mission, I didn't realize there was anything to hide anyway, just a nagging curiosity I needn't bother anyone with and which would surely be inconsequential once I was happily married and preparing to have a family.

I'm so glad I listened to my hesitations. I wasn't ready, even though I thought I was. And I would much rather begin a relationship on the kind of open, honest note I now feel ready for. In fact, its hard to say if my relationships with past girls may have been different if I'd been this self-aware back then. Who knows? But I know that, given my circumstances, I'm glad things have worked out as they have. Surprised? Yeah, me too: I forget this sometimes. Even if I wish circumstances had been different, I can't think of any chunk of my life I'd just as soon erase. I learned so much from each and have friendships and experiences from each which instructed and enlarged and challenged me.

Anyway, even though I sometimes wonder how my life might be different, even better, had I married a girl, I'm glad I didn't at the time. I'm glad I didn't start a relationship with a large part of myself in the shadows. I'm glad I've been able to explore my questions and path without the worries of how it might affect a family, even though I know that's just part of being a family and might not consider it a burden if I had one. I'm glad I've learned what I have about myself which I'm not sure I would have allowed myself to learn had I been married. Even though I'll never be perfect enough to be a perfect husband or partner, I'm glad I listened to that quiet inner voice which said, "You have some things to figure out that are essential to the kind of relationship you want and need." I'm glad I listened to the concern I felt when I realized I couldn't look back at her quite the way she looked at me and couldn't imagine putting her through decades of wondering why she wasn't good enough for me to return that gaze. Sometimes, I think I've been afraid to say these things because I don't want to induce someone to unnecessarily regret their own decision to marry or anything like it. But I have to be honest that I'm glad I didn't marry a girl when I thought I could have. And yet, that doesn't mean I would diminish the goodness of these girls by acting like I somehow dodged a bullet or that I think I'd be miserable with them. It just means I think things worked out as was best, with them happily married with children now and me figuring things out. And again, I haven't closed the door on the possibility that a marriage with a woman could (theoretically) potentially not only work but best meet my desires and needs, doable now that I have been through what I've been through and have more perspective. But hashing all of that out in words is still another post...




BIG BUT (a sort of epilogue to not end this post on an unintended note):

In talking with a friend or two (or reading blog entries by some) who did marry before coming to terms with their own homosexuality, they've admitted to times when they've wondered what life might be like had they not married. For example, one might think of his family and realize he wouldn't trade them for anything, and part of him is glad he got married when he did because he's not sure he ever would've consciously chosen to had he come to terms with his own homosexuality more honestly beforehand. One friend said he considers himself blessed to have his wife (and believes his wife when she says she's blessed to have him), even if he does sometimes wonder what it would've been like to have a relationship with a man.

I've replied that even though I'm glad to have my options before me, and even though I firmly believe gay/SSA people should absolutely be up front about their homosexuality before marrying someone, I completely affirm the attitude of being grateful for what one does have and not focusing unnecessarily on what "might have been". What's done is done, and anyone can play that game, but with what purpose? He can't go back and tell her ahead of time. That's over. And he's married with children. Some people believe their only option is to pursue a same-sex relationship or to be a husband and father legally only and to live an otherwise independent life or open the marriage. And I know that you can't always simplify a situation down to "you made a commitment, and it would be selfish to go back on the promises you made." But I still insist that, if at all possible, the best option is to maintain the agreement made at the inception of the relationship, to keep the contract and conditions understood at the beginning, and to stay together for the good of the children if a happy home can be built or restored. Even though I have good friends with children who have divorced, and I understand their situations as well as a never-married gay friend can *smirk* and don't look down on them at all for their decision and see how it's sometimes even better that way, I am always happy when a couple can keep their family together and become a stronger couple through whatever trial they face.

I wonder how many gay folks married to members of the opposite sex who say they wouldn't trade their spouse and family for anything, if they were sent back to before they met their spouse and forgot they ever had a family, and same-sex partnership wasn't proscribed by beliefs and was considered no different from mixed-sex partnership (procreative methods aside), would never have chosen to marry their spouse or even have considered marrying someone of the opposite sex. I wonder how many of them would have instead pursued a relationship with someone of the same sex, without the challenges of a mixed-orientation marriage, and married for life, maybe adopting children. And if they were then to remember their past life in a mixed-orientation marriage, what they would feel, how they would compare their experiences, etc. I think you have to acknowledge that maybe, if society were different, and personal beliefs about truth were different, some would've chosen differently, at least for a while. But the choice they have before them is now.

I've said to such a friend something like, "I believe you wouldn't trade your family for anything, and that's beautiful. And even if you would have been with a guy if you had it to do over again, I don't think you should let that bother you. It's natural to wonder what might have been. If you have to mourn it, mourn it, but I'd say you're right to let it go because you have a really great wife who's a great companion, and you have great kids, and you clearly love all of your family. I'm not one to believe you're just accepting a consolation prize because you weren't able to have the real deal. I believe you are choosing what matters most to you and what you most value, as we all are. What you have has possibly already proven better than what most people have, and better than you might otherwise have had. How can you possibly know? I can tell your family is your greatest joy. The 'what ifs' might always be there to some extent, but if you can let go of them, knowing yourself and your situation, you have a great 'what is' right in front of you. I have to say that as I face the prospect of maybe finding a partner and building a life with him (or possibly her), or possibly never finding anyone after all, or who knows what, what you have now is enviable and beautiful to me in such a meaningful way, even if challenging in ways I may never fully understand. From my vantage point, it could be a shame to trade what you have for what you might have theoretically missed out on and which may or may not prove to be everything your imagination makes it out to be. What you have seems well worth the struggle to keep it, and though I have no illusions about you being perfect, I really respect your perspective and commitment to the most important people in your life and have faith in your ability to continue finding even more joy with them as you have been doing. I know you don't need my support or approval, but I just wanted you to know that this particular skeptical agnostic fully supports you." And I still mean it. But what do you think? For those of you in that place, what is your reaction/response to such thoughts? Are they lacking? Comforting? Meh?

If the Church's position changed...

...and a revelation was announced in which those in same-sex relationships were offered full membership in the church, short of temple sealings and endowment for not-already-endowed members, and were to be given all the same callings anyone else in a non-temple marriage could have, I don't think it would have any bearing on whether I 'went back to the church'. I mention that scenario because I think it's the most likely eventual (WAY down the road) change in acceptance of same-sex couples, if any. But even if they started sealing same-sex couples and calling men and women in such pairings to apostleship (since surely women would be given the priesthood by that point, too, which incidentally I consider possibly more likely than my first scenario), I can't imagine that changing anything where the church is concerned. I've always believed that, but it's become increasingly clear to me.

I know this doesn't help any 'cause' of trying to pressure the church into changing its position or policy so gay people will come back to it in droves or so that current gay members who don't want to leave will have a cozier home in the church. What it would do is make it easier for me to just go and enjoy the community and positive principles, free to date guys and marry one if I met someone who was right for me, and play along for the sake of family and friends who might feel more comfortable if I were going. But I'm just saying...these are two separate--though obviously interconnected or related in certain ways--issues, and my views of the veracity of the church's collective and individual historical or doctrinal claims, let alone those of the Bible, don't hinge on it. *shrug*

Ted Cox presentation on JIM and ex-gay movement

I've found this presentation by Ted Cox, a straight, ex-LDS writer who went to a JIM weekend undercover and shares his experience and interpretations, pretty interesting, although he does tend to fall into the tendency to dismiss ideas based on personal choices of certain of those who espouse and promulgate them, and he clearly has a bias. But so do the creators of JIM, so...y'know. One thing I find interesting is that I've found myself nodding at many points but saying, "Eh, now wait a minute, that's not entirely on-point," at others.

If you're uncomfortable with some crude language and humor, you might want to skip over the first 2 1/2 minutes. In fact, up until about 4:45 of part 1 is just intro stuff that's not necessarily relevant. There's incidental language throughout the rest, but nothing too in-your-face, from what I've seen in the first 6 parts so far. To get to the rest of the parts, either watch this until the end and follow the links in the video, or click on the video to bring up a YouTube page with some of them listed on the right.

Breakfast With Scot

The other night, after watching weekly TV shows with some buddies, we decided to see what was on Netflix and agreed on Breakfast With Scot. It deals with a gay couple who don't show any glaringly obvious stereotypical gay traits who end up caring for a young boy whose mother died and who is waiting for her ex-boyfriend, into whose custody she willed her son, who is also the brother of one of them. They quickly learn this boy stands out like a sore thumb among his peers for his love of things that are decidedly not traditionally masculine, let's say, and most of the movie deals with them learning to adapt to having a child in their lives and the latent insecurities his lack of 'fitting in' brings out in them, particularly the former hockey player who's been playing it straight in public for most of his life. It's no Oscar-winner, but I really enjoyed it and would recommend it for a fun, somewhat thoughtful, and heart-warming watch. I think I'll add it to my regular holiday season list. :-)

Moho self-absorption

Many of my straight/hetero friends have met many of my gay/SSA friends. They most often really like each other or at least get along fine. But if there's one thing my straight friends have most noted about the mohos, as opposed to other gay or straight friends they have, it's that they seem unusually self-absorbed. And they're not just talking about the self-denying ones or the newbies who are in their early stages of gay adolescence. I want to make it clear that these same friends have made it clear they genuinely like many of my moho friends and think they're nice, or fun, or accomplished, or whatever. But there's just a sort of lack of outward-reaching interest beyond occasional token gestures. And some of that can come from things like shyness of mohos around certain of my friends, or being new to hanging out with people they can be open around, or whatever. But I've heard it enough that it's given me pause on a few occasions.

I can't deny it. That's not to say we don't care about anyone but ourselves. Usually quite the contrary, I think, though there are clearly exceptions. It's not to say we're self-centered in the sense that we only think of ourselves in making decisions, harming others with behaviors in selfish abandon. There are as many of those as in any other crowd, but I'm not sure there are any more so, and where there are, they shouldn't get a free pass. And let's be honest, we're still (mostly) guys, and guys often aren't as great at showing interest as girls in general. And yes, sometimes the collective voices of blogs or discussion groups take on an overpoweringly "woe is me" tone, which is probably not productive and can be annoying. But what I think they mean is that many individuals tend to be very caught up, in our heads and in conversation in groups, in figuring ourselves out, resolving our internal conflicts, deciding what path to follow, and doing what it takes to follow the path we've chosen which, either way, is often a non-negligible effort to shift certain paradigms and deal with severe social and internal consequences and stress, and it comes across as disinterest in anything outside of our immediate sphere of mohodom.

Unfortunately, I think it's that conflict or ongoing effort to maintain a perspective and help others to do so (an indicator that it really is no casual effort and requires more than praying and fasting away the gay or more than fooling around with your first crush and calling it a relationship), combined with 'fighting' and 'striving' to be a certain kind of man or woman, combined with possible years of feeling inadequate, incomplete, assaulted (by one side or another) broken, or sinful which often overshadows what would otherwise be a very sensitive, perceptive, affirming personality. In a way, it seems tragic to me. But in a way, it can be a growing process which may eventually lead to a more whole, confident, re-integrated person in the long run...hopefully...and hopefully without losing the unique parts of one's personality which have set him or her apart from others.

So to those who seem bent on harping on mohos for self-absorption, I say fine: you may be right. But you don't get to do that and harp on them to comply with what you think they should be doing with their lives. You don't get to add to the chorus of voices telling them how to live and then harp on them for being caught up or nearly obsessive in trying to take your commandments seriously and finding it far more difficult than maybe you've ever known it to be. If you're doing both, go find a carbon copy of yourself to abuse. You're a tyrannical ass, and it shows in your eyes. You probably know your hypocrisy and dishonesty, somewhere deep inside of you, which is what makes you so cold.

To the rest of you, please forgive your moho if he or she seems a bit self-absorbed at times. Help them come outside of their 'struggle' or efforts sometimes, constructively reminding them that you want and need their interest and attention sometimes, too, appealing to what may be their actual natural tendency to care about others rather than scolding them for being something bad and uncaring. But allow them some time to ruminate and to process as well. This is tough stuff for many, whether or not you think it 'should be' and they should just buck up or just follow the prophet or just embrace their gayness. Unfortunately, they're often in a conflict between their most prominent or even cherished beliefs and one of the most powerful human emotional drives--that of (emotionally and physically) intimate companionship--and it's causing them a great deal of dissonance and necessary personal adjustment, even after heading down one path or another. Many of them eventually figure out a satisfactory balance which allows them to carry on. Some take a long time, others less so.

There are some who completely eschew all gay influences in their lives and try to just live on their own, forging a life of heteronormativity the best they know how, and they may succeed, at least for a time. Others may have left the church when they're young and have developed relatively normally within social circles which unquestioningly accept their homosexuality and don't constantly remind them that they've chosen to forfeit Celestial Glory. Either of these are probably less self-absorbed in the way most mohos are, but they've distanced themselves from conflicting voices, an option which may not be available, desirable, or right to many mohos, especially those who come to terms with things later in life.

Some are actively involved with the church and have a supportive community of friends who share their challenge and want to similarly live the standards of the church. Some will marry, others won't. Either way, their friends will have ups and downs and will need each other for support and simply can't go back to the notion that you're better off shoving it all under the rug and isolating yourself from those who personally understand what you're going through...they've seen that as a path which worked for a while but which stifled their true potential and emotional connection with their spouses or others in their life. As such, even among those who are firm and unyielding in their path, there will be exposure to doubts from friends questioning whether it's all worth it, whether the Lord would understand if they just found a same-sex partner for this life and left the rest to be resolved in the next, repenting for slipping up again, or simply needing an emotional recharge from trusted male friends who know what they've been through.

I do have moho friends I would consider not self-absorbed at all, at least no more than anyone else in or out of the church. It's not everyone.

But it may be me. At least sometimes. And when I realize it, I try to focus more outwardly, let go of the conflict or needing to decide where I'm headed and what, exactly, it entails, and see where I can respond to the needs of or learn about the interests of others, getting outside of myself. There's a balance. And maybe at times I will have to quiet the voices on one side or another...or both, in order to sort out my own way.

My friends have often followed up their observations of self-absorption with something like, "I just wish they showed more personal interest in things other than their own struggle and social circles, but despite my own challenges in life, I can't imagine what mohos go through, trying to reconcile all of that, so it's hard to fault them too much." I've appreciated that. And it makes me want to make sure I'm that much less self-absorbed, or more outward-reaching, so I don't take that kind of friendship for granted.