What if you were wrong about...?

A friend asked me over brunch one day some time ago, "What if, just imagining, what if after you die, you find that life continues--you continue--and you're led to someone who explains that he's the Savior? How would you react?" It was a question I already had asked and answered myself, checking in with myself periodically to see if the answer was still the same.  It was then, and it is now.

I explained that despite the guilt-inducing stories of my Mormon social upbringing in which some rebellious character gets to the other side and is too ashamed to look Christ in the face, I don't have the sense that that would be my experience. I acknowledge that could change, depending on what perspective might open up to me at some point, but actually living it has given me a different conception.  I've lived as honestly and sincerely as I know how, and I fought for years to hold on to what beliefs or "testimony" I could and give myself ample time to come back around before heading off in any direction other than the one that had, for years in the past, seemed so trustworthy.  I've acted and prayed carefully for years.  I don't feel "rebellion" in my path.

I will not always get it right, and I don't want to mislead anyone or miss opportunities to help someone in the best way when I could have done so. But when it comes right down to it, I hope I will always find a way to let go of my own pride about how right I've been or egocentric pride about what kind of "example" I'm being and will instead humbly, deliberately, and actively seek to embrace truth in front of me.

And for that reason, the short answer to that ultimate question is really just three words: I would kneel. I still get choked up saying that, but I don't see any other way. My friend said he somehow knew that would be my response. I took that as a compliment. Sure, I don't expect that is what will happen, but I don't think I have it in me to be totally dismissive about the possibility, it having meant so much to me for so long. And sure, if it does happen, I might wonder how I had lost sight of it or how many souls I could have brought to the greater truth during my time wandering.  And I might have questions to ask and critical thinking to incorporate into or balance with faith, but in the end, I believe what ultimately matters is that when truth presents itself, no matter how scary or unexpected, I embrace it and try to do the best I can with it.  After all, that's how I've found the peace and perspective I have today, and I'm not so proud as to assume I've got it all figured out now. For that reason, I believe I would kneel, and I would ask, "What now?"

We can debate til the end of time...

Acceptance should not negate conviction.  The good news is that it doesn't have to.  If you struggle to wrap your mind and heart around that, you may do well to soften your heart, open your ears, and relax your neck.

Don't get me wrong: I _will_ challenge and push back and ask questions and retain skepticism.  Crucial conversations must take place regarding the consequences of our actions on each other and on people we care about in our political, social, and personal lives.  Understanding and solutions come from such conversations, through the conflict, not by avoiding it.  Conflict is bound to arise from people of varying convictions pursuing what they believe is right and good.  And some people in pursuit of power, self aggrandizement, or justification will destroy peace around us if we are too busy holding hands to stand against them and do anything about it.  Not all views of either spirituality or secularism include a love of peace or prioritize harmony, reconciliation, and self-determination.  But I think humanity generally craves them enough that they can and will be fostered and magnified by example.



If I love you, I am going to care about your happiness and will be concerned when I see you choosing what seem like destructive beliefs and decisions.  I think we should be honest with each other.  But there are respectful, mutually beneficial ways to approaching those concerns, and there are tyrannical, stiffnecked, or defensive ways to approach them.  We know where we fundamentally disagree, and we're not likely to change each other's mind, especially not by reminding each other of disapproval at every opportunity without being ever willing to hear each other out.  And if I turn out to have been slightly short of full understanding of truth, or just plain wrong about someone's decisions, will I have destroyed good friendships to defend my own flawed understanding?  If I'm certain I'm right, and they're certain they're right, am I proud enough to staunchly believe I am the right one?  Am I arrogant enough to let that sense of righteousness alone justify behavior or treatment of others that I would consider wrong from anyone else?  No, and I don't think I have to.  I have my beliefs, but I don't know all things or the depths and breadth of anyone's heart and experience.  I try to keep this perspective ever present when approaching and having conversations about controversial or difficult subjects I might more easily rail against or rant about than attempt to understand.

That's why I think I'd change one lyric in this song: "We can debate til the end of time who's wrong and who is right, yet I can honor your choices and you can honor mine."

I believe that debate can only get us so far.  At some point, I think each of us has to accept that there's no way we can keep up with each other, or there's no way I can fully articulate every nuance of every thought and experience I have, let alone do it in a way that would be convincing to everyone or even anyone.  I may have a higher tolerance for tension and debate than others.  And I still do and will rant sometimes.  I do still think we can and should have productive, even if conflict-born, conversation.  But I will nonetheless commit and re-commit, and strive to honor your choices, even when I don't understand or agree with them (which is often, let's just be honest *wink*), and after some rigorous testing, I've found that even though in some cases we agree less than ever, I can generally expect the same of my truest friends, for which I'm grateful.

Why I've chosen to test, not abandon, friendships

When I realized I no longer believed in the tenets and doctrines of the LDS Church as I used to (the stories and explanations, not the values, which I still mostly share), or that I wasn't sure I believed in them at all anymore, many crises presented themselves, not least of which was a complete shift in my social interactions and change in my relationships among those closest to me.

I was going from, "I have so much respect for the fact that even if it's not always comfortable, you continue in the church and take each day on faith. I don't know if I'd get through what you're going through with such faith, and it's so inspiring that you do," to, "I'm so sad and disappointed that you've given up. You're forfeiting celestial glory and eternal life by overthinking your way out of the church. It's just hard to see you throwing it all away instead of hanging in there." I also went from sharing this part of my life which had been most important to me to not relating on this new level with most people I was close to and not knowing who to talk with about it. I wondered if I was necessarily going to eventually be pretty sure most people in my life believed a fantasy. How would our relationships adapt to this new dissonance?

Since late high school, my social life and friendship circles were developed within the church and its many programs and organizations. I worked at various places, and I volunteered with other organizations, but I had so many friends within the church that I never felt much need to seek friendships elsewhere, and I didn't. Over 90% of my Facebook friends are or have been LDS. My closest friends were active in the church, and not just the active-by-default kind or the "you can't take it all too seriously" kind but the deliberately active and consciously engaged kind. As much as I wanted to make sure I wouldn't leave the church as the result of social issues or interpersonal conflict ("the people are imperfect, not the doctrine," I always said), I realized that I was at a turning point where if I were to stay in the church, the reasons would be primarily social. I had a very difficult decision to make, but I had put off the doubts and tried to quell them for many years, and the reality of that hit hard.

I resigned any leadership in church-affirming or church-affiliated organizations as soon as I realized this. I was not about to cling to the feeling that I was useful and contributing while quietly disagreeing with mission and values statements and wondering if I even believed in God anything like the way I always had, or at all. I was not going to try to change any organization into what I thought it should be when my beliefs were increasingly in conflict with those the organizations had espoused all along. And I didn't want to cause some scandal by being an apostate in leadership and thereby unduly discredit those organizations in any way. I'd rather leave some distance between the time I stopped serving and the time I really walked away, if that's where I was headed. I believed I needed to diminish for a time while wrestling with these questions and determining my way forward without unnecessary political and social expectations and external pressures. I'd moved along with those quite long enough to satisfy myself that they were not going to keep me afloat, that I had internal conflicts to resolve now with or without those attachments. In my case, I believe integrity demanded I step down and step back.

Similarly, a temptation was to isolate completely from those who still subscribed to church doctrine. I no longer belonged among them or shared what we'd always shared, and my presence would be regarded as a "negative influence" by some. Additionally, I knew what my 8-years-ago self would tell my today-self, and I didn't care to hear it from everyone else trying to talk some spiritual sense into me. I also didn't want to unnecessarily affect anyone else. What if, a year or four from now, I decided I was wrong and went back to the church? What if, during that time, I had "led many astray" by my example and doubts and might later regret it? No, better to keep it mostly internal except when pressed. After all, I felt like the kind of clarity and epiphanies I was having were sparked by others who sincerely shared with me what they'd been going through. I had been a missionary and tried to help people gain a conviction of LDS doctrine. Did I regret that? Maybe in a way, but it's what I honestly believed, so it's hard to really regret something I did in full sincerity. "OK, then," I thought, "as long as I'm being honest and sincere about it, I'll share when asked." But I didn't want to have the conversation constantly, so I was careful how I talked about it to avoid eliciting probing questions unnecessarily.

It really was a "spiritual walkabout" of sorts, and I found most people respected that and didn't try to interfere. Some did, probably out of a desire to save me from withering as a coal removed from the fire, but it fell flat. Their language and demeanor reflected a lack of real understanding of what I was going through. Those who seemed to "get it", even if they'd become faithful again, understood that I knew the arguments against what I was doing and had made them effectively, myself, and this was my journey alone to navigate. Typically, their preaching amounted to, "Don't shut out the Spirit. Stay open." I could handle that.

It was challenging, at first, to maintain contact with my LDS friends. When you're going through a transition in life or trying to make changes you believe are positive and necessary, and the people you've surrounded yourself with are not on board, they can hold you back from that process, especially if they've never been through it quite the way you have. The easy answer is to push them all away, freeing yourself up to pursue your new direction without the baggage and weight of opposition and emotional pleas to "come back to the fold" and be saved. But I saw a problem in that notion.

If I was truly making the right choice, then I should not be threatened by opposing views. And if I alienated all of them, I'd be left quite alone and therefore either artificially lonely and sad (which would be a product of the social isolation but would conveniently be explained by some as 'spiritual decay') or needing social interaction so badly that I might fill the void with shallower, shinier friendships with people who may or may not actually care about my personal welfare. At my age, starting all friendships from scratch seems a really unpleasant endeavor and one I'd rather not undertake. Besides, if I was going in a good direction, and my relationships were built on more than certain common beliefs but were actually personal, intimate connections, they should be able to weather these changes. If I was going in a bad direction, I wouldn't have alienated everyone who would be there to help me get back up and dust myself off. And maybe there's value in letting them see more of the journey rather than fleeing and making it easy for those left behind to assume the wicked cannot abide the company of the righteous, or my conscience couldn't withstand the reminders. Maybe there's value in acknowledging that if this is right, they might benefit from seeing that I'm still me and still happy, and if it's wrong, I might benefit from knowing they'll be able to call my B.S. if I try to put on a happy mask. Besides, I cared about my friends, still, and believed they cared about me. So though I did withdraw from a few social circles where the group bonding was stronger than my individual relationships within the group, I chose to test my closer friendships rather than abandon them, even if I did distance myself in some ways for at least a time. I'm happy to say my close friendships have persisted.

That's not to say it's been easy. Hay-ul no, not nearly. Even though it was painful for me to see people hurt over my decisions and beliefs, and they were clearly struggling to adjust to a new way of viewing me, I was happy to find that most of the people I considered true friends walked with me when possible, and still allowed me to walk with them, and we've made the adjustments together, sometimes smoothly, sometimes roughly. Many are still adjusting. A few not-as-close friendships haven't weathered the change. I harbor relatively few hard feelings for those: I knew what those friendships were all along, and they weren't the kind of relationship to weather this, so I couldn't expect anything different.

The pleasant surprise has been that some have quietly come to me confessing that they've been through similar, and we've rekindled old bonds. Some have come to me confessing that they've never told anyone this, but they've not believed for years but carry on playing the role because that's what they contracted to do when they married, and they don't want to upset their children's lives unnecessarily by risking divorce or rocking the boat. Some friends of other belief systems have come back, and I've been able to see more completely beyond the "non-LDS" barricade I didn't realize I had put up. Many, more than I expected, have admitted to being somewhat or very "agnostic" in their faith, admitting they don't "know" it's true but hope it is, or that they firmly believe in the core of the gospel and very much see an evolving doctrine around that core, and many of these have "come out agnostic".

It's been stressful, which is another topic I intend to post about. But it's been good. And I feel more stable and "at peace" than maybe ever, despite obvious stresses in my life. That may be because I've stubbornly eliminated a doctrinal framework that conflicts with my natural man, and it may be because the world and universe make more sense to me now than ever or that I'm not trying to cling to false beliefs, and new or conflicting ideas don't cause the tension in me that they used to. Come what may, I hope to find and embrace truth. I'm no fount of bubbly happiness, but I feel as happy as ever. Perhaps it's not an "eternal joy" of the kind I used to experience and have, over the years, forgotten as a distant memory. Or perhaps it's a more sustainable joy from within and not based on what may be myth. Maybe I've learned a kind of happiness that I needed to, and one day I'll bring the LDS "gospel" back into the picture, and the combination will be greater joy than I've ever known. Or maybe I'll find a wonderful man and adopt children and have more joy than I thought possible. Who knows? Not me, and not you. But we can probably still be friends.

Ye of little faith

In some moments, I want to say to theists, especially the fundamentalist religious types, "You have so little faith in the unseen. You're so impatient and think you need all of the answers now..." Of course, I recognize that it's possibly precisely because it's been "used" against me in the past that I am inclined to use it in return. But I was reading a discussion about "miracles," and comments like, "Well, there's no better explanation, so it's clearly an [unnatural or supernatural or otherwise mystically-timed] act of God" had me a bit bewildered at how impatient some people are when it comes to not knowing the answers and having to explain it now however they can to make the world make sense again. And it clicked: I was thinking they lacked faith in truth itself. Bear with me while I explain in more long-winded manner (who, me?!):

The laws of nature are not fully understood. The relationships between particles, forces, or energies are not fully understood. We try to relate to the world and the universe through theoretical, measurable chunks. We create theoretical vacuums in which to understand principles of physics. We create simplified components of systems to understand the principles at work. We love stories with simplified characters because they make artificially clear the traits of heroism or evil. But reality--the real-world operations and interactions of things and people--rarely if ever operates in such stark simplicity but is instead a possibly infinitely complex conglomerate, series, or interaction of each of these simplified ideas. Our systems of scientific experimentation are often completely adequate in their estimates, but it is all still estimation, and the most minute anomaly can introduce unexpected influence and cause variation.

If I could precisely measure exactly the physical, atomic, and subatomic interplay between molecules and particles making up what we call "air", and I knew exactly the gravitational influences from the earth and nearby celestial bodies such as the moon, and I knew exactly every other action in the world which was to occur instantaneously at a given point in time which would, in turn, cause a reaction or interaction with incidental particles and people, and I knew exactly what decisions people were going to make to affect the world around them, and I knew what particles and debris would enter our atmosphere as the Earth sped through space, and could incorporate all of the abstractly simple and straightforward laws of physics into this complex understanding, then I could probably predict exactly where on the ground or on a person's shoulder a feather dropped from the Eiffel Tower would land or predict what the weather was going to be in Provo, UT next year at this time. But that dropped feather will behave in a seemingly unpredictable and chaotic way, changing direction with the slightest shift in the air, and hey, even what the weather will be tomorrow is a bit of a crap shoot for Utah's meteorologists.

The feather landing on someone's head might seem a miracle, especially if that person also happened to have asked God for a sign of peace in the last year, more so if they asked an hour prior. An unexpected downpour right onto one person's house might seem a sign of gloom and doom or might confirm to passersby that this person is, indeed, a bad neighbor as they had suspected. These are the cases where people say, "Well, you can't tell me it's a coincidence..." But how many people are just looking for anything to confirm what they hope or suspect? And of those, how many have these events occur? Many assume that, absent of a scientific explanation, their belief in the supernatural has been confirmed. Others persist, after increased knowledge and understanding explain how the incident occurred, in believing that the timing itself testifies of its miraculous nature. But when a "miracle" occurs which seems to defy their beliefs, it is quickly scoffed at or otherwise shrugged off as an "unknown", or a Satanic imitation, or someone trying too hard to look for signs.

Is it any wonder that on occasion, events may take place which meteorologists couldn't predict given their current understanding and measurements? Is it any wonder, with how little we yet know of the incredibly complex systems and interactions within the human body, not to mention the inability, logistically or financially, to measure every single function occurring in every single medical patient at all times, that people experience phenomena--from healing, to revitalization after clinical death (cells don't all cease functioning for quite a while), to utterly unexpected death--which medical knowledge "can't explain"?

And yet, despite this perspective, when I see what religious adherents might refer to as a "miracle", I'm not sure I'm any less in awe of it or grateful for it than they are, or than I was of similar events when I was religious. It's beautiful. I love that the universe still attests that there is a vastness of truth beyond anything I can comprehend, yet to be discovered and understood, and that we are players in an incredibly expansive reality. I'm in awe at the fortune of some to have their wishes fulfilled, to have a loved one brought back as they may have teetered on the point of despair or resignation or to stumble upon great fortune at a time of desperate need. I acknowledge it's impressive when a priesthood blessing seems to be fulfilled in miraculous manner. But I also know how many are not, and I know another family just lost their loved one unexpectedly despite the strongest of faith, and I know it sometimes rains on temple dedications, and I know children praying for families or health may never find them. That doesn't mean there's no God or that God isn't personified and willful and allowing each person to learn in different ways and on different timelines. But...there comes a point where you have to acknowledge that religious explanations typically seem awfully 'convenient' to the adherents' paradigms and context. But hey, I know what it's like to think, "Well, I know it might seem convenient, but if it's true, then of course it's going to make sense within the doctrine. Of course it's going to seem convenient: because it's the truth." That might seem circular, but as long as it's not being used to "prove" that the miracles are true, it's not circular, and you have to acknowledge...it's logical, assuming...

I used to reconcile things like seemingly unjust pain and death with the idea that because there's another life beyond this, even death isn't tragic if it's merely a passage into another, better stage of existence, and even those kids who grow up without families may have been given opportunities, through their coping, to learn and grow stronger which they might not have had if they had been placed. I used to figure some people were healed because someone needed the miracle or because the healed person had more to do on earth, while others weren't because someone needed the humility, or the deceased person was needed on the other side for some purpose.

Having thought that way, I may have a different take than most nontheists on the idea that scientific explanation necessarily negates the need for belief in or existence of deity. The mere notion that we may, one eon, if we last long enough as a species, discover all of the mechanisms and interactions in the universe--like where emotions come from and why some people have "near-death" or "out-of-body" experiences--does not guarantee that there aren't mechanisms by which more advanced beings couldn't be pulling some strings or manipulating events here and there. As I understand it, the LDS notion of God is compatible with this nearly sci-fi kind of outlook in which natural laws are completely preserved but operate on more planes of energy or perception than those of which we are now aware or which we're able to prove with current technology and measurement.

All of this comes back to my point that when I hear people say, "I believe God performed a miracle because there is no other explanation," I see a very weak reason to believe. Even though I'm skeptical, I think there are other reasons to believe than this sort of 'default', mostly deeply personal and mostly impossible to insert into someone else's psyche. When someone says, "I believe in God because the universe just doesn't make sense without him," I hear impatience and...a lack of faith, not to mention a sad lack of intellectual curiosity and engagement with the universe they're a part of. I see a lack of faith in what is yet to be seen, what is yet to be understood. How many times have I been taught and in turn taught others that we simply cannot and will not have all of the answers here and now, or in this life at all, and that a little faith is required to trust that it all makes sense somehow? You may not understand a trial or struggle now, but you can still trust that a reason exists and that it will be for your good somehow. You may not understand an unexplained phenomenon now, but you can still trust that an elegantly reasonable explanation exists for what it was or how it happened. Be not afraid.

Of course, when I ceased to need a "why" for everything because I no longer necessarily believed a conscious, willful being was in control of everything or "allowed" everything to happen, or chose to intervene in some cases (implicitly not in others), and I realized I believed it's never been about "why" but more about "how" and about what I'll make of it, many ideas started to click in a way they never had before.

Sometimes, the principle of faith--of not needing all the answers now--is used to browbeat those who do not believe in a God or in a religiously theistic outlook. But my paradigm shifted. I'm not sure when, and I might come up with any of a number of explanations for how or why, but it shifted. I still understand the principle, even from an LDS perspective. I still know that even if God is very real and present, I'm simply not going to understand the will and mind of an infinitely powerful and omniscient being for whom time may be irrelevant in order to make sense of things which don't make sense to my limited, mortal brain and perspective.

But atheists and nontheists have a faith, too, though maybe not the mystical kind the religious value more: a belief in or hope for truth which is as-of-yet not discovered or not proven, which may or may not have evidence. They trust that there's an explanation, even if we don't know it now, even when they are being told to stop looking for it and "have faith" that God is the explanation. They may even regard theists as being impatient and lacking trust or faith in ultimate truth, instead supplanting that quiet patience with notions of the unnatural or supernatural manipulation by invisible beings, sacrificing the search for truth and expansion or adjustment of perspective for a hasty embrace of a story which demotes truth by fitting the universe into one's already-existing perspective. This is probably similar to the way the religious view the non-, as "denying" religious truth to fit their limited, sensory, quantifiable perception and mere physical universe at the expense of the vast spiritual dimension of existence. I'm not sure how you bridge that gap of understanding.

But in my view, the intellectually, emotionally honest among us--theist and nontheist alike--are patiently waiting to find and receive the answers to the mysteries without jumping to conclusions, despite our respective hunches and personal experiences. That is, I think, largely the essence of my agnosticism: not only patience with but even a sort of reverence for the complexity and ambiguity of truth and the search for understanding.

I was told by someone in conflict, "I can't question everything my whole life. I need conviction." I was in no position to debate, but I wanted to say, "Show me conviction without questions. No, your view and mine are incompatible. I hope to never stop questioning. To do so would be a lack of faith."

You make me feel like a natural man

Listen, churchy chumps, stop using the "natural man" argument to conveniently bolster your hobby topics such as homosexuality. A natural heterosexual man falls in love with and wants to be with women. If your logic is that everything which feels "natural" is evil, or that I am supposed to overcome any arbitrarily selected "natural" inclination in order to prove my dedication and gain glory, then let's see straight people live single and celibate their whole lives to prove their willingness to overcome the "natural man".

And I'm not just talking about those people who, despite their desire and effort, "just don't find the right person," but everyone. I'm talking about everyone choosing to be single and rejecting opportunities which seem to be real shots at happy companionship with someone who'd want to build a family with them--someone with whom they're personally, ideologically, financially, and otherwise compatible, whose values they share, whom they respect, to whom they're attracted, for whom they have more than a "Christlike" lovin' feeling--only because the potential partner is the wrong gender. Because hey, their 'natural' appetites and lusts are not sufficient to build an eternal relationship. And showing your love for and obedience to God requires the willing sacrifice of all things. Then I'll start believing they understand what they're preaching.

While we're at it, let's have mothers refrain from ever holding their babies. That's a natural impulse, and one's faithfulness is proven by showing their willingness to subdue all earthly comforts and attachments, all natural appetites, to show their dedication to eternal growth rather than earthly comforts.

That's different, you say? Good, I agree it is. Because holding your baby is a divinely appointed good? Because God hasn't spoken, through what are believed to be divinely appointed mouthpieces, against holding your babies? Because research has shown that touch deprivation is psychologically and physically harmful for babies? Well OK, then, stick to the real issue and stop browbeating with accusations of not understanding that God requires difficult things of the faithful or asserting that only the proud reject an involved, personal God. Focus on the real issue of what you believe God's will to be, and get your misguided, arbitrarily applied "natural man is an enemy to God" and "doing what's harder brings rewards" motive-demeaning fluff out of my face. It's old and stinky.

Change of heart

This post is mostly not about recent BYU drama, but it was sparked by thoughts related to it. As I read a post about gay BYU students being "transferred" to UVU, I thought, "Well, if that's true, and BYU is somehow cleansing itself, strapping on a pair, or somehow trying to show integrity in holding students accountable, then I expect to see a cleansing of the football team, too."

Don't get me wrong: I'm sure there are great guys on the football team, and I'd probably be tired of people singling them out if I were one of them, but I've known enough people, over the course of several years, who have reported abundant alcohol abuse and sexual promiscuity, not to mention dishonest academic practices, among specifically the football players that I'm pretty confident they can take on the theater department in a contest of transgression. I await the transfers of the football players by popular demand of the righteous masses and indignant administration. You know, for integrity's sake.

Then I thought maybe the conservative football players are extremely penitent every time they intoxicate themselves or penetrate a daughter of God, whereas the theater gays are brashly defiant and stubbornly liberal, and that's where the difference is. Truth be told, I've only heard from one first-person source about the theater department cleansing, so I don't even know the details, and this might all be conjecture, but let's just say it fits church culture perfectly.

And that brings me to my point: the popular LDS notion that it's "what's in his heart" that matters. Even those who seem to recognize a dissonance of sorts and express a sort of sympathetic, "Yeah, I can see where you're coming from," seem more patient with the constantly, repeatedly 'penitent' sinner than with the person who commits the same sins far less frequently but doesn't share the belief in the gravity of the sin, if they even believe it's a sin at all, because one is at least "trying" and "has his heart in the right place."

At least, that's how I used to think, even though I didn't fully realize that's how I thought at the time. The frustrating part is how thoroughly I understand the point of view I'm describing because it was mine. I know not every LDS person shares it, but I know many--maybe even most--do. In a way, it's completely understandable: if what matters is one's 'heart', or one's 'faith' in certain beliefs or deity, and if there's an 'atonement' which washes away sin, then certainly the point when you stop making it effective in your life is the point you have 'given up', and to over-abuse it is better than to waste it or ignore it...or something like that. Besides, without Christ, you are nothing, and we're supposed to forgive until seventy times seven, so...under those assumptions, it just makes sense to be more patient with the constant but penitent sinner...or does it? Not in my book.

"Trying". The word hypocrites bank on. The word which ignores the damage done and runs away from consequences because they have to keep their eye single...until the next time. Seriously, folks, if you're committing the same 'sin' over and over, at some point I think you have to acknowledge that your 'heart' is not, in fact, "in the right place," and that you are no more 'righteous' than any other common sinner who is not acting against their professed beliefs. You HAVE to, if you have a shred of integrity.

I submit that to be happy, you must stop destroying your integrity more and more each time you 'slip up' by pretending you're not going to do it again but not really changing anything, and that this pattern is absolutely, completely no better than the unrepentant sinner who doesn't believe what they're doing is wrong. I submit that to be happier, whether we're talking about 'sin' or 'bad habits' or 'changes you want to make in your life', we each must:

• A) admit that you don't really believe what you're doing is wrong or harmful to anyone including yourself (and admit that your secrecy is an attempt to save face by living what you want while wearing a facade to deceive others--yes, to deceive, not to avoid drama, not because it's none of their business, but to deceive), and either recognize that the drive to change is not due to a true problem in your life but to external pressures or demands you don't actually believe are right or true for whatever reason (whether or not others seem to think you "should"), or
• B) stop making excuses and exonerating yourself based on your 'heart', stop pretending you should get some kind of free pass because of your 'intent' no matter how many pandering authorities are letting you off the hook because they need to validate themselves or need something from you or don't want to believe you could be as imperfect as you are, recognize that your integrity depends on bringing your actions and beliefs or goals into alignment, recognize your behavior is harmful and find out why to integrate beliefs and understanding that will actually foster and motivate change, be kind to yourself when you do fall short (as we all do, especially when striving for something beyond "normal" or "average"), and do something (break cycles, ask for help and accountability, whatever is required) to truly avoid repeating the error, if it is one.

I say this to myself as well as to my readers because as I have implemented these perspectives in my life, I've been happier with myself and more at peace with myself and with others. I've been kinder, more patient, more humble, more longsuffering, and more receptive to truth by gradually letting go of the fear of being wrong and what implications that may bring to my life. Aside from clearly not being a paragon of achieved human potential, I'm not perfect at even this idea I'm preaching by any means, but I believe it to be a simple but impacting truth. I still have goals and desires for myself that I want but don't always diligently work towards. In addition to clearly disappointing many people around me in certain ways, I sometimes fall short of my own expectations, as I always have. But increasing levels of honesty with myself have helped me recognize that sometimes, my failure to "change" has been because I'm just not convinced I need to, not yet, not completely, or not at all, and I'm learning to own it.

Sometimes, I haven't realized a need for change until someone explained how my actions or attitudes have affected them personally, which they might not know to do unless I admitted I didn't see a need to change. Since I care about harming others, I've had the opportunity to respond, though is is harder some times than others, or understanding the 'why' has been a challenge, and admitting that rather than sweeping it all under the rug can be difficult because I might look clueless or might have to change. Sometimes, I do want to change and have received a quiet nudge or a slap in the face to wake me up to a need to break patterns and cycles, and I've made another step towards progress until the next "lesson learned". Other times, I recognize that I do want to change, but I admit I have bigger fish to fry, and I have priorities, and they may not be the same as someone else's.

But the point is to improve. To really try. To strive for better today than yesterday in some way. There will be backslides, sidetracks, colossal mistakes, putting things on the back burner, and moments where you feel some things never seem to change. There will also be triumphs, joys, leaps forward, picking up again where you left off, and moments where you read a journal entry from twelve years ago and realize, "Wow, have I really come that far in that regard?"

I just don't buy this "his heart is in the right place" business. Isn't that what "change of heart" is all about? Whether you believe a "change of heart" is a spiritual manifestation of the goodness of God in purifying and aligning your will through the atonement of his son or an otherwise originated epiphany of clarity, resolution, and recognition of your own capability and motivation to live in a way that will be meaningful and leave an impact, I think we all have to, at some point, stop fooling ourselves with comforting masks or accountability-erasing balm because truth--or God, if you prefer--is not gullible. While mercy or ignorance may clean the slate of accountability for each of us, integrity--happiness--demands something internal, something nobody can force upon us, and something no amount of "acting like everything is fine" will ever bring about: a change of heart, and steps to truly align our actions with our beliefs, whether that means admitting our beliefs and priority of values don't match those of others or acknowledging that our actions are not excusable and do need to change to some degree, or both.

Man up, men, and let's all try a little harder to stand and be counted as we are, unafraid, in the light, accountable, courageous, honest about our beliefs and fears and hopes. It's scary, it's hard, it's vulnerable, it's likely to upset someone, and none of us is perfect at it or ever will be...but it's productive, it's ennobling and empowering to ourselves and to others, it fosters truth-finding, it promotes understanding and intimacy in ways secrecy never will, and...OK, actually, I'm just trying to get you all to admit your dirt, so we can have a big ol' gossip fest and point and laugh at the weirdos and scorn the filthy sinners.

Ha, is that what some are afraid of? Probably with good reason. Scary stuff, being exposed by admitting either your beliefs or actions are not what you've let everyone, including yourself, think they are, and letting that be the start of a true, lasting "change of heart" (you can't truly fix something you won't even admit is broken). Is there a limit or balance to how open you should be about such things? Probably...but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say most people could take several steps towards openness, ownership, and integrity (integrating rather than compartmentalizing their lives and actions and beliefs) and would find themselves happier for having done so. Take it or leave it, but don't expect me to shut up about it. :-)

Do all the real men go for women?

I sometimes wonder if the emotionally healthiest gay guys (or the ones whose perspectives best align with my ideals about relationships) most recognize (or believe) that much or most of what really matters in a relationship can be found in a relationship with a woman and are consequently inclined to seek it with a woman for social and/or religious reasons. Maybe they believe it to be genuinely not selfish if it's done openly because everyone brings baggage and emotional reservations to a relationship, and if a woman is willing to take this challenge on, they're both making sacrifices for a relationship they believe in and want, and to refuse to allow her to choose that is to demean her ability to decide what's best for her. Maybe the concern about not being able to return certain vulnerabilities and kinds of passion or investment is inconsequential, and every pairing is uneven in some way, so getting caught up in that is a cop-out when you can have open communication, emotional connection, and deliberate investment, which are what a lasting relationship is built on.

Maybe this is all correct, and only those with the emotionally healthiest perspective on relationships or who have the most mature outlook--the 'real men'--realize it, and therefore very few of the healthiest gay men end up on the market for other men, so those men who are left seeking same-sex companionship mostly include those who don't understand or grasp it, compounding the problems of relationships in popular gay culture. I mean no offense to those of you in great same-sex relationships. I'm just wondering if you're the exceptions rather than anything even remotely like the rule, not because same-sex-attracted men are inherently worse at relationships than opposite-sex-attracted men, and not just because of self-perpetuating unhealthiness in aspects of popular gay culture or society's official rejection of same-sex partnership commitment, but because gay men who see beyond dogmatic homosexuality or who can't stop wanting certain things for their lives see, in all probability, significant trade-offs no matter what they choose.

Some such guys might fully recognize and accept that, all else being equal, they'd rather be with a man, but they also believe all else is not equal socially, religiously, eternally, culturally, personally, or biologically, so all things considered, they might just as well take on the specific challenges and sacrifices of a mixed-sex relationship as take on the specific challenges and sacrifices and social or legal limitations of a same-sex relationship. ...Or maybe I'm only projecting my own skepticism.

I wonder if the men who most easily pass for straight are most likely to try to pass for straight. Maybe for a more "effeminate" guy, he's not going to fool anyone, so he will likely always deal with whispers of his probable homosexuality and people telling him to be himself. He might fear his sons, if he has any, will have a girly-man for a dad. He might have to "act" more "masculine" to play the role most women want. But for the already-"masculine" gay man, the one who enjoys sports and can fix a car, or the one who most people don't suspect until they find out he's only seriously dated one or two girls in his thirty years of life, playing the part of a typical, standard husband might seem more natural in certain ways than it would to the man with fewer traits generally regarded as belonging to masculinity.

I wonder if the guys I would be most attracted to and who want what I want are the least likely to be available to me because they're busy keeping everyone clueless that they're even gay by dating and marrying women because it just makes social sense to take the path of less resistance. Jerks.

But it's natural. Most of us don't exactly relish the idea of being social crusaders or living against the grain if we don't have to. Most of us don't really critically examine our beliefs until they're challenged thoroughly, or other beliefs seem not only more plausible but emotionally fulfilling. Most of us don't question roles and systems until something about them really doesn't fit or stops working. I certainly don't claim to be the most traditionally 'masculine' of men, nor the most understanding of relationships or women, but sometimes I wonder if I'd rather just give up on pioneering paths for the sake of intellectual integrity or making reality of conceptions and rejoin the trodden trails of normality...

Temptation and Cognitive Dissonance Revisited, Part 2

Back to Part 1


This is where I admit, to everyone's shock, I'm sure, that I parallel this idea of abstinence from sugar and carbs with emotional health and "rules" of healthy living. We may think we know exactly what's "good for" ourselves or anyone else, but most of the time, though it may generally be true, it's not always exactly as we think it is, no matter how well a certain "pattern" or "habit" has worked for any one person or general group. Often, a productive habit or practice carries accompanying destructive ideas or aspects, and only as we remain open to better solutions do we parse those apart and identify the underlying truths and principles and learn to apply them more personally, with more surgical accuracy. A medication that saves one person's life might kill another. Sometimes, "temptation" might not be just a personal flaw and weakness but may actually be your body's or soul's cry for what it truly needs. Sometimes, a craving isn't just a weakness or addiction to resist but is a sign of something which you maybe haven't learned to satisfy or fulfill except in ways which bring accompanying harm, and a little education will help you satisfy that need in ways which are healthy, rather than ignoring it as if it's only a test of your resolve. You needn't abandon certain practices entirely but learn to refine and incorporate positive principles.

Incidentally, I think JIM-dandies talk in related terms about paying attention to messages your emotions or body send you as real needs to be met, and I actually agree on much of the principle. But the way reparatives use this to describe homosexuality as a craving for intimacy that really just needs to be met non-romantically and non-sexually, like a craving for nutrition which people try to meet by eating junk food...we'll probably agree to disagree on the prepackaged application of that principle. Confession: I don't think it's true, in general, even for people who believe it's true for themselves, even when they honestly don't insist it's necessarily true for anyone else. Maybe I'm skeptical because I've talked with many guys who used to subscribe to those theories but have since found explanations which make more sense and brought more lasting happiness and personal growth. But since I can't know for sure, I acknowledge that it's not my decision to make, and it may be true for some, so I don't make judgments on an individual basis. How could I? But this is all a tangent, since I'm not just equating this with homosexuality...

There are even extreme cases which defy general dietary guidelines entirely. In most cases, empty calories or junk food are simply not a healthful choice except in small amounts. But for a diabetic in shock, a candy bar may save them: concern for whether it has nutritional value goes out the window. Maybe some would be tempted to explain the life-saving sugar scenario as only true in cases where a person has an unusual illness, and ideally, if they were in a perfected body, they would never need such a thing. They might relate that to 'spirituality' or moral issues. And in that case, it's no wonder that when I've felt conflicted over religious beliefs and what I regarded as 'temptations', I've found it hugely attractive to want to see myself as a paragon of emotional health, thereby not in need of 'sin' to fulfill me. Even if I was compassionate towards those who 'sinned', if I were to 'sin', it would only reveal to myself and others that I was spiritually/emotionally diabetic. This is only one "exception" scenario.

Admittedly, in the vast majority of cases, a candy bar is not going to do anything positive for your health except maybe some minimal effects of substances in cocoa or peanuts or something not nearly making up for the sugar and empty calories, but if it's enjoyable to eat, and/or it will improve your mood (and therefore your interactions) when you're hungry and crabby and don't have anything else, and/or you're going to run for half an hour to burn it off, and it's not going to lead to a candy bar binge...perhaps you have bigger priorities in life to spend your self-improvement energy on? Or maybe it's really not a problem at all anyway, especially if you only eat one candy bar per month? Should you beat yourself up for eating a candy bar every month? Should you admit that maybe you shouldn't be eating candy bars ever, at all, and admit that you only do it because you're weak, or should you just enjoy it and know that you're not going to go on a binge of any sort anyway, so it's OK?

In addition to this, remember that every one of us needs sugar and carbs to survive and thrive. To cut them out entirely because they're linked with obesity or other health concerns might seem rational but is unhealthful. Sometimes, being overzealous in what was a fine and positive endeavor can create unintended, destructive consequences, particularly when you haven't understood the reasons for the thing about which you were so zealous, such as complete elimination of sugars and carbs. The physical body is full of balances, counterbalances, and apparent paradoxes which only make sense as we learn more about how it all works and is interrelated. This is why I don't poo-poo scientific health advice when it seems to flip-flop, but I do expect it will always evolve and change now and then as they discover that they usually were right all along, just in different cases and at different levels. I experienced a major paradigm shift in my own life when this idea clicked into place beautifully in relation to moral rules.

Athletes need carb boosts to sustain energy levels the rest of us don't need to sustain. Most of us would be eating far too much if we tried to match certain Olympic swimmers. Fortunately, over time, we've learned better and worse ways of obtaining carbs. We've identified interplay between nutritional components and cellular processes in increasing levels of complexity, and we're always learning more about good, better, and best dietary choices to obtain the unique combination of vitamins, minerals, and other dietary considerations each one of us needs for our body, activity level, and other physical needs. On an emotional/moral level, there are people everywhere who think they've identified what "healthy" carbs are, or they insist carbs are carbs, no such thing as "healthy" or "unhealthy" carbs, and it's how they're ingested that matters... There are conflicting ideas about what are healthful means of getting carbs we need...and most of us just sort it out the best we can.

Many years ago, I would have responded to such an argument as I've just put forth with acknowledgment that you can't equate physical health with spiritual and that they operate under different laws. Later, I would have said it might apply in some way but that we fortunately have an all-knowing nutritionist who has laid out the complete diet, and the best health is found in following that diet completely to keep it all in balance, and that's the great quest of this life. I'd have said that even a healthy reduction of sugar may well involve temptation to eat sweets, and that only after I'd resisted sugar intake for a long time did I lose the desire for it, and I was healthier for it and glad I'd done it, difficult as it was. And I still see reason in that moderate approach.

The problem is that I'm not convinced every dietary rule we have is given by an all-knowing 'nutritionist'. I believe 'truth' exists and is waiting to be understood, but I believe most rules are given by well-positioned observers or spokespeople who have identified trends and feel strongly about certain guidelines, but that the underlying principles of those are still being learned and discovered, so the application of them necessarily varies. The trick is to remain focused on improvement and open to truth. As long as the prescribed diet seems to be working, as it may for many or most, there's seemingly no need to question any aspect of it, and it becomes easy to think that those for whom it doesn't work just didn't do it right. But when your body starts to wither and wear beyond what others have described when they've assured you they "went through some of that, too," it's time to re-examine the diet or, at the very least, your specific application of it. Is there far more to the true, full diet than you have yet understood?

I believe the rules should be generally respected as the positive general guidelines they are but can and should be adapted as each individual gains understanding of his or her own life and situation. That seems like real obedience: seeking out and living by true/proven principles rather than clinging to arbitrary rules. I think looking beyond the stark rules to the reasons they work is necessary if we are to truly put a full effort into understanding our own health and the workings of our unique bodies with unique needs.

I also believe there's clear danger in poo-pooing counsel to reduce sugar, especially for some people with certain conditions for whom it could mean death to take in too much sugar, and those are probably more common than the people who would be detrimentally affected by reducing their sugar intake.

But if the nutritionist spokespeople told us all to cut all carbs and sugars from our diets, and to cut all fat from toddlers' diets because fat is bad, and to run 3 hours a day because running is good for you, you bet your sweet bippy it's OK to take that counsel with a grain of salt and acknowledge the underlying principles while moderating the actual implementation, without an ounce of guilt for not being 'healthy' enough to run 3 hours a day without taking in any carbs. Even if some people can do that, they're odd anomalies, not you, and that doesn't mean theirs is a strength, as it probably comes with some serious drawbacks.

I think we all can and should prioritize our 'dietary considerations', not letting that be an excuse for laziness or disregard but actually compelling us to a more engaged, informed, discerning, intelligent approach to our health. Depending on where we get our information, or how we prioritize, we'll each find different balances in different ways at different times, and that's OK because we can teach and balance each other. I think the more we increase our own health, the more we encourage those around us to do the same. And to my chagrin, maybe even the extreme zealots have a role to play in that balance, illustrating for the rest of us the consequences of their extreme decisions, so the rest of us don't have to.




Fin.

Heteros do it too (and what I really think about most therapy of homosexuality), Part 6 of 6

Back to Part 5...


All else being equal, I would like to marry a man and raise children with him. But as much as I'd like to believe future generations won't have to face the choices or prejudices I have or that the dynamics and aspects of a male-male partnership and parenthood were exactly the same as those of male-female pairings, all else is just not equal, due to religion, social dynamics, biology, and legal ramifications, to name a few. Maybe same-sex couples aren't the first to wonder if society would ever accept them, but until things change, it's going to remain a big deal.

I also understand, firsthand, the reality of facing an apparent choice or tension between fighting for what the future can potentially be and saving myself the stress by living the best I can within the current bounds. Perhaps not everyone had the tenacity, energy, personal fortitude, or vision to be among the first inter-ethnic couples before society figured out such relationships can work, that accompanying differences of perspective can be beautifully and ably navigated for the personal growth of both parties, and that children raised by such couples are more stressed because of society's lack of understanding and acceptance of the couples. Perhaps not everyone can or even should be a social pioneer. So I reiterate that if certain practices work to make a same-sex attracted man's future marriage to a woman possible or current marriage better, and that's the option someone wants to pursue, as long as they're being honest and open and not hurting anyone, I want to support them in seeking happiness.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Yes, I wonder whether gay guys experience being "in love" as intensely or in as soul-animating a way with women as with guys (in at least 98.702% of cases, which statistic is great for those who find the right woman but not great for the rest), and I do think there are probably inherent, very personal and unique difficulties built into mixed-orientation marriages on top of the usual issues. But the more I expound on these ideas, the more I think it may sound like I'm saying my mixed-sex-married gay/SSA friends are living a lie for religious or social convenience, which is not what I mean to say. When it comes to people I know and love, I'm not comfortable making that assertion for their very personal, very sacred relationships. Let me be clear: I do not think my married friends are secretly unhappy or unfulfilled or fooling themselves about truly loving their spouses, I don't think their decision to marry a straight spouse is an inherently selfish decision, and I fully respect the straight spouse's right to choose. I believe that even the inherent additional challenges are often mitigated, if they've approached the marriage wisely, by an unusual level of communication and openness going into the marriage.

So I have this dilemma: I support and am happy for my friends who are married and having children as I've always dreamed of doing, and I believe they are genuinely happy, yet I believe that in most cases, were it not for religious and social paradigms which will likely change over hundreds of years, they would have chosen to be with someone of their same sex, but things haven't changed, or they do believe it's not allowed, or they did want biological children with a spouse of the opposite sex, so they had to act within their belief, and even if they wouldn't have chosen their spouse if same-sex relationships were an option, that doesn't detract from the fact that they're glad they did, and they wouldn't trade what they have for anything, and their spouses feel the same way...

I do think they're not "straight" or even, in any cases I personally know, truly 'bisexual', but since their sexual energy is now directed exclusively at their spouse of the opposite sex, and their thought processes on sexuality are far healthier than they used to be, I respect their right to reject labels which would downplay or distract from that focused love and whole-hearted dedication. I even think they are often more self-accepting than ever, which is something I think most anti-reparative people don't even recognize, let alone understand.

I fully hope for the success of my mixed-orientation married friends. In the cases of friends whose marriages are in challenging or rocky positions, especially where they have children, I fully hope they'll be able to work things out and have confidence that they can, in most cases, if they work at it and find the right ideas and support systems. Heteros have to weather tough times, too. The idea of having a wife of 6 years and two or three kids sounds pretty nice sometimes compared to facing a possible life of bachelorhood, I gotta be honest. So to my happily married friends, I say you have a beautiful, wonderful thing, and it may well be far better than anything you would have had either alone or with another man (or woman), and I hope it always remains so.

Marriage aside, though I think reparative theory is mostly bollocks, I still support my friends in doing what they believe works for their happiness, and I think some of the methods and practices can be very useful to many people in helping them identify and improve communication, cognition, and relationship skills and tools, in order to function as they wish to. I also think there are other ways to learn the same valuable lessons without the money, or the emotional baggage of theories of which I'm very skeptical, or the substitutes for cuddling explained as healing touch, or contrived "masculinity" (incidentally, some of my favorite decidedly hetero, self-assured, intelligent, and engaging friends are lacking popularly 'masculine' traits and don't seem bothered by it).

Did I think he was the smartest person I'd ever met? Nope. The most physically attractive? Nope. The funniest? Bah. The most accomplished? Who're we kidding? The most popular, athletic, confident, kind, refined, world-wise, happiest, or most creative and artistic? None of the above in the superlative, not even while I was the most emotionally invested, but all of the above to some degree or another in a combination I considered myself completely fortunate to find, and more than I felt I could ask for. He was (and, I imagine, very much is, in the most important ways) a great guy. I loved him because of who he was, even if a touch idealized, like heteros do.

But here's the real kicker, which probably requires more explanation than I have time to give right now (I know, why stop now, right?): I still consider, from time to time, going through reparative therapy or Journey Into Manhood. It's not because I actually think the theories are sound, it's not just to quell the "he hasn't even tried it himself" arguments (especially since I'd have to try 100% for at least 3 years to be considered a valid effort), and it's not just in case that whole eternal marriage thing is true. It's because if it could at least work to bring myself to a place where I'm more ready to consider or open to a heterosexual relationship, maybe it's worth wading through the muck to find the truths if it will open me up to more opportunities for happiness.

I don't know who else besides reparative types are willing to help a gay guy prepare for the challenges and dynamics of a relationship with a woman should that option become available and desirable. After all, if I can have a life without the social conflicts, denied rights, and inability to reproduce currently attached to same-sex pairings, maybe it's worth exploring the theories firsthand, giving them a real chance, and seeing if they apply more to my life than I ever realized while analyzing them from a bit of distance. Or maybe I just feel that broken, with nothing to lose...is that how they get us? Well, shoot...maybe I'm more free to 'be gotten', having gotten all of this off of my chest. Or maybe I have finally understood "desperation". Maybe I'm tired of defending myself and others and just want to quietly live my happy life...like heteros do...



Fin

Temptation and Cognitive Dissonance Revisited, Part 1

If you believe sugar is bad for you, based on observations and teachings that people who eat lots of sugar get fat, and there is a real problem in our nation with overconsumption of sugar, and you consequently conclude (not irrationally), that you must exert every effort to remove sugar from your diet, and you follow through, surely you have done a healthy thing. Maybe you've heard success stories from those who have cut sugar from their diets and felt so much better, had so much more energy, and experienced signs of improved health. Maybe you took it further and joined the ranks of those who eliminated sugars in all forms as much as possible, including natural or unrefined sugars.

You might even have heard people say not to go so far, that you're being extreme, but you decided they just can't hack what you can, or they're taking the easier road that doesn't require as much sacrifice and commitment, and your health will be that much better for the effort you're making beyond the bare minimum. Maybe you've heard of diets requiring reduction of carbs and incorporated those into your dietary restrictions as well. You don't do anything halfway. You're proving your dedication.

Over time, in such thorough dedication and self-denial for health's sake, when your body starts to tell you it needs carbohydrates to fuel basic biological functions on a cellular level by responding with self-preservation in the form of reduced energy or other symptoms, you might be surprised. Maybe you will crave sugar as you have never craved it before. You might even 'give in to temptation' and partake of some sugar, and suddenly, you're wrestling with a form of cognitive dissonance: you've done something you don't believe in doing, and your experience seems to conflict with your beliefs about it.

As far as you can tell, either the action or the belief must be wrong, being in apparent conflict.

In the face of this temptation and cognitive dissonance, you have a few possible responses:

• It seems clear that to justify the action would be the easy way out, so you cling to the belief (in this binary mode of thinking) in order to make sure that you are not pandering to weakness or sacrificing truth to your appetites. The perception of the ease of abandoning the belief, rather than evidence of the belief itself, determines its veracity. You commit even more to fight the weakness you are facing. You don't partake of sugar in such moments of weakness. Surely the temptation will pass, and to back down now would be to undo everything you've done. Besides, there's meaning in the struggle, and you're not about to let a temptation change your beliefs (sugar = bad) but will maintain your course according to your beliefs. "Lift your behaviors to match your beliefs," you think. You decry scientific efforts to defend light-to-moderate sugar intake as pseudointellectuals pandering to a sweets-addicted society.
• Same thoughts as above, except you binge on sugar and carbs when the craving gets strong, admit your mistake or weakness, and quickly re-commit to your anti-sugar, anti-carb diet, again an affirmation of your beliefs. You engage in an intense cycle of self-denial and binging, perpetuated by emotional triggers and unmet dietary needs.
• You decide this whole anti-sugar thing is too hard and start eating every gorpy, syrupy, heart-assaulting dessert you see, abandoning any concern for health. Nevermind the belief: this is easier.
• Your indiscretion didn't kill you or create any ill effects. You feel stable now, and have more energy since eating a moderate amount of sugar or carbs, and the craving is gone. You decide that maybe a little here and a little there never hurt anyone, or maybe it's just not worth putting yourself through the stress of resisting the temptation to eat sugar. Maybe you find you feel happier worrying less about it but still eating in moderation, and you don't care about the judgemental looks from the anorexic girls at the table next to you. Let them punish themselves: you have more important concerns in life, and more important matters of self-improvement to pour your energy into, than worrying about a little sugar you can work off at the gym. You might occasionally overdo it, which isn't helping your health any, but you're not about to snarf a whole cake by yourself or anything.
• You look into the matter more. You discover that our understanding of how sugar works, how carbohydrates in general work, and how other nutritional factors interplay with those is always evolving, expanding, and becoming more complex or nuanced. You learn about the differences between refined and naturally occurring sugars, learn about the need for carbs to fuel biological processes, learn that different bodies actually process foods differently, that some diets work for some people but not for others, and that we're increasingly learning how to tell which are which but don't yet have all of the answers on these things, so people need to adapt their decisions to their bodies' distinct needs. While we used to think sugar was OK, then we thought it was bad, we have increasingly realized there are far more principles underlying the matter, and while a general rule of thumb may work for most of the population, a decision that may be healthful for one person may be detrimental for another. And rarely can we simplify any food to one single component of it, like sugar, or carbs, and by stripping away a certain food to reduce one component, we may unknowingly also remove a needful component which we haven't been getting in other ways, whether or not we can. Ideally, you can greatly reduce sugar intake while maintaining necessary nutritional balance. But that takes a more complex understanding of nutrition than most people have.

Continue to Part 2

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!

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.

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...

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.

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*

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.