Something Worth Celebrating

On Parental Hope and Heartbreak was posted on Doves & Serpents at the beginning of this month. I have to say... it was a refreshing read.

I have family members that are under the impression that the greatest failure for them is the fact that I don't hold the same beliefs or understand the world the same way that they do. I didn't realize how pervasive this sentiment was in Mormon culture, at least, I never heard someone articulate it so poignantly until I read the blog post above.

I have to agree with the blog post; it's sad when family members believe that they've failed because a family member is learning and growing. It'd be different if I was being unhealthy and self-destructive. But genuine self-discovery and healthy growth? How's that even worth the energy it takes to mourn? Celebrating a family members growing into himself/herself seems much more productive.

A Conversation That I'm Having

I'm taking this from a conversation I'm having on Facebook with a recent acquaintance. I love this conversation! Putting things down on paper (on computer?) helps me better shape what I believe, so I'm posting my contribution to the conversation here:


"BTW, I love this conversation. It's really beneficial to me, and I really love to think out and express my testimony. It gives me chance to reevaluate where I am, and helps me see what I need to improve on.


That being said, I'd like to preface my thoughts with this: Recognizing my attraction to other men has been the catalyst for me to question why I believe what I believe. I have had to be brutally honest with myself, and with the way that I've lived in the Church. I want to be as close to God as I can be, and so I do the best with the faculties I've been given.


I respectfully disagree with the idea that the Church is true or it isn't. I believe Joseph Smith saw what he saw, and I believe that he established a very true and good religion. I also believe that our Heavenly Father has a divine plan for all of his children, and the narrative of history seems to point to the idea that our Father provides all his children with truths according to what they are willing to receive. Essentially, I believe that the Church plays a vital role in the salvation of the human race, but I recognize the very real presence of God in other faiths.


I've never had to articulate why I believe things are true before, so I thank you for that opportunity. I judge what is true based off of spiritual confirmation of the scriptures, spiritual confirmation of other people witnessing to me, and common experience. Truth also leads to health, physical, spiritual, emotional, etc., so I take that into account too.


I guess feelings do play a role in how I determine things to be true. But I also use the faculties God has provided me to engage with what I feel. From my observation, that's when the Spirit steps in and carries me.


I factor in what the Prophets say and what the Scriptures say when mulling over truth. To answer your questions more fully, I think that I weigh self-evidence very heavily when determining truth. If what the Prophets and what the Scriptures are telling me seems insensitive, cruel, unfeeling, unreasonable or not self-evident, I do hold on to skepticism. That's where faith comes in though; I have faith in the Atonement, and I have faith in well-meaning servants of God throughout all ages.


I hope that fleshed out my perspectives for you! Thank you for this great conversation :)"


I feel really good about these thoughts... For now, they help me navigate the way I deal with Mormonism.

A Blank Slate

You pay a price to be a Mormon. Well, you pay a price to be anything really, but it's only recently that I've been thinking about what that looks like as I wade my way through Mormonism. I realize that I want to pay the appropriate amount to be a Mormon man congruent with what I think is true and sensible and spiritual. It's tricky though, figuring out what the price is that I am willing to pay.

And so, I've decided, it's time to just start at the very beginning. I hope to post my observations as I attend Sacrament meeting, read my scriptures on a (somewhat) daily basis, and pray a bit more earnestly and regularly. Perhaps as I do this, I'll find out what I'm truly willing to spend to be a part of my community.

Here is my first observation: My old beliefs are, essentially, dead. Coming out and accepting my gay identity has led me to rethink the ways in which Heavenly Father moves through the world, the ways in which He speaks to His children, and the ways in which I tie my personal spiritual health to a religious institution. I feel, more or less, like a blank slate. Mormonism is still valuable and exciting to me, and I want to participate in it.

So here is a post, a road marker, in my journey; may the odds be ever in my favor.

So Maybe It's Time to Come Out Some More

I really want to try to get through to my parents. I know my Mom is trying to be understanding and accepting of her gay son, and I appreciate her effort. My Dad, I think, needs to be educated about homosexuality and the Church. That last sentence was pretty blunt, but that's how I feel.

Several parents of USGA members spoke to USGA last night and one idea I heard over and over again was that parents need to be educated. They need to dig deep into the research about homosexuality and into Church History. Acceptance and love then become more readily available to them. Lots of parents have to throw away their dreams for their children when their children come out. Research provides them the tools they need to build a new dream for their gay children.

So maybe I can shape my parent's dream for me. I want to give my Mom No More Goodbyes by Carol Lynn Pearson. She loves to read, and I think it would be interesting for her to hear those experiences and thoughts expressed in the book. I actually haven't read it (I tend to shy away from emotional, heavy reads... I don't have the stamina for it.), but the book is always recommended and praised when mentioned in conversation. I trust my friend's opinion on this one.

I've also been thinking about getting my Mom in contact with parents of other gay Mormons. I think she needs someone to talk to; my Dad can be pretty over-bearing in his opinions, and without my brother and I, I think my Mom has few people she can openly express things to at home. Maybe another mother of a gay son would be a helpful link for her.

And then, maybe, my Mom will be able to approach my Dad with all this and help him grow. I know that right now I can't reach him. I am apostatizing in his mind. He also won't look up Carol Lynn Pearson or Bill Bradshaw because his apostate son suggested them as resources. It's frustrating, and I hope my Mom can get through to him.

Ultimately, these things take time. I haven't really pushed this conversation --- I'm letting them approach it as they please --- But maybe I can guide them, and maybe we can draw a bit closer from it all.

Prayer, and a Silly Thing I Imagined

I don't really know why I am writing today. There is no real discontentment or triumph that I feel like sharing, nor did you need to know that... But alas, here I am, and there you are.

What do prayers mean to you? You know, I can't really bring myself to pray for outcomes. There are so many factors that collide and bounce off of one another in each and every day of my life. I can't kid myself, or God for that matter, and pretend that I have a good suggestion as to how these factors should bounce off one another. I was horrible at physics in high school.

Usually a prayer is, to me, pounding the pavement. Earbuds in the ears, hands in the pockets, and my well-worn New Balance sneakers plodding along some puddily Provo excuse for a sidewalk. I think about my life, the gift that everything is, and above all I have a hope in my heart: that everything will turn out for the best.

It's the most earnest, honest prayer I can give. Oh, and there is always one pet blessing that I dare ask for... and that's the request the I be happy while I'm sorting through this beautiful mess.

I have this image in my head, a tableau that popped into my head when I was reading Russian literature a year ago. She's an old woman with a wizened, wrinkled face shrouded and draped in a gray and tattered thing. She is sitting on a stone, rocking an infant-sized stone as if to put it to sleep.

She sings to it, and it comes to life. A form of a little child, gurgling and laughing happily. The old woman rocks the image, laughs with it, makes faces with it and loves it.

I assume when the old woman goes home, she ends her enchantment and places the lifeless little stone where she found it. I imagine her coming back daily to the place where a little trick provides her infinite happiness.

I don't know why I shared that, or what exactly it means. It makes me a bit melancholy, really. Is she wrong for  loving something that isn't real? She could be neglecting more real and alive people. Or, is she right for reveling in a dream? Is she creating her own beauty in a life that sees very little beauty outside her own? Maybe it's both; these options I just thought of aren't mutually exclusive.

Ha! Maybe these thoughts reflect me :) Hopefully they have amused you!

"Oh, look how you storm! I would be friends..."

"Some things are worth fighting for. Other things, sometimes the same things, are worth trudging through the trenches for."

There is a sort of meditative quality I associate with monotonous tasks. Every once in awhile, a gem of a thought will pop into my head while doing some rather boring thing. Such gems make me smile, and subsequently I share them with you.

Oh, and a thought on optimism. I come from a rather cynical family, and I think it is fair enough to say that my coming out and my wrestling with my faith have lead me to be a little more cynical in life. But that being said, I walked to work this morning in the dark and rather oppressive cold of Provo and mulled over my cynicism in my head, and thought, "Well, I could stand to be a little more sunny." Considering how especially dreary the quiet 4 o'clock hour was this morning, I'd say I'm off to a good start.

It just occurred to me then that I don't have to deny dreariness or bleakness their realness in life. I can just choose to approach them differently.

Goodness and contentment tend to play Hide and Seek with me and my friends. I'd rather play Sardines, really.

Hope you're well :)

Blessings and Curses

"Some are cursed with blessings, others blessed with curses."

Thoughts and a Few Words

The purpose of this blog is shifting. I feel my interest in writing here has become more casual. It's a good thing; I love reading books or blogs where the tone shifts as you wade your way through it. Some changes are more subtle than others. And yet, when tones transform and ideas evolve before your eyes, it's beautiful. The mind behind the words is changing, and its that change that interests me. If your growing, share it, because the sharing is lovely.

Of late I've been thinking a lot about silences in conversation. They occur naturally, when nothing more is left to be said, and maybe for other reasons that I can't think of right now. Most days, I'm comfortable with a silence that bubbles out of the conversation. Other days and times, and especially when I am spending time with a person who means a great deal to me, I become acutely uncomfortable when a silence forms.

It's not because I'm not good at carrying a conversation. It's not because I'm not interesting, or that I'm not interested in what the other persons saying. I just blank! I want to say something funny, or charming, and all I see in my mind is a big, white blankness.

It's tough to get over that kind of anxiety. Or rather, work with it. I'm trying to embrace those silences, and instead of focusing on how awkward I must seem struggling to find words, I relish the moment and let thought naturally flow again. I'm trying to break that dam of paralyzing self-awareness and just let things be. My next thoughts might trickle out; they might gush out. Either, or... Hmph, letting thoughts just happen is scary. It's hard to be a genuine you sometimes isn't it?

It's really a matter of acceptance I think. I accept that I have worth and that I'm an interesting person, and I don't need excess words to prove it.

Truth is, some people can take the words away from you. Not maliciously, or selfishly. No, their presence, the light in their eyes, their smile... They can leave you breathless. Why ruin a breathless moment with words?

‎"anxiety is simply part of the condition of being human. if we were not anxious, we would never create anything." william e. barrett


"Thoughts are created in the act of writing. It is a myth that you must have something to say in order to write. Reality: You often need to write in order to have anything to say. Thought comes with writing, and writing may never come if it is postponed until we are satisfied that we have something to say... The assertion of write first, see what you had to say later applies to all manifestations of written language, to letters... as well as to diaries and journals." --- frank smith