finding my spiritual home: part 1

The concept of a “spiritual home” became personally meaningful to me last week while sitting and meditating in a church meeting a couple weeks ago.  While pondering my current spiritual standing, some questions came to mind:

Where is my spiritual home? 

What do I do there?

Is it inside me or outside of me?

This is especially significant because lately I have felt a longing to have a place I can call my spiritual home, since I left the religion of my birth and have since been defining and restructuring my beliefs for the last few years.  Perhaps it would be helpful to examine my past spiritual home to see what did and did not work for me, and then to describe my ideal spiritual home, in order to gain a better idea of what to look for. 

The spiritual home I was born into was the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, also known as the Mormon Church.  My family is descended from the original members of the church, and Joseph Smith, the founder, is my great-great-great-uncle.  I grew up in Utah, the heart of Mormonism, and had what I think is the typical Mormon upbringing.  I was blessed at birth, baptized and confirmed (given the Gift of the Holy Ghost) at age 8, ordained a deacon at 12, a teacher at 14, a priest at 16, and an elder at 18.  I went through the temple and received the ordinances there, and went on a 2-year mission to Montreal, Canada, at 19. 

Through all that time I was a 100%, true blue, orthodox Latter-Day Saint.  I believed what I was taught by my parents, church leaders, prophets, apostles, and bishops, and from a very young age I sought to conform completely to all of the standards and commandments of the Church, which I believed to come from God through his ancient and modern prophets.  I thoroughly internalized the doctrines and beliefs of the church, and sought to be “the perfect Mormon boy.”  I pulled it off, at least from an outsider’s view.  I was often praised for being such a good, obedient, upstanding young man in the church.  That felt good for sure, but there was another side to it, a darker side that tainted my blissful Saintly existence. 

What I call my “first gay memory” occurred when I was about three or four years old.  From that time I have many memories of feeling different, of being attracted or interested in the boys and men around me, and the development of my sexual orientation was a parallel process that I saw as directly at odds with my spiritual development in the Church.  The LDS Church is not gay-affirming, as its recent political moves have so clearly shown.  However, there has been much improvement.  I remember reading the book Mormon Doctrine by Bruce R. McKonkie, in which he describes homosexuality as a sin next to murder.  There were other church materials I read that were equally homophobic and misinformed, which only caused me to heap on the denial and repression of my sexual feelings even more.  While I appeared to be the “perfect Mormon boy” on the outside, on the inside I felt like a disgusting, evil sinner who could only hope that my good works would somehow balance things out such that I would be worthy for one of the lower heavens (there are multiple levels of heaven in Mormon theology).

I suppose the culmination of my Mormon experience was attending Brigham Young University when I returned from my mission.  BYU is the gem of the Church, and the policies of the institution serve to make it the epitome of what Latter-Day Saints represent, good and bad.  It was during my first semester there that my wall of denial and repression was broken down, and I began the long hard road of self-acceptance and understanding.  My coming out process was gradual, as I first attended the reparative-oriented Evergreen support groups, and it eventually led to me finally accepting my sexuality as part of who I am, and pursuing relationships with men.  

In terms of my original spiritual home, you could say that I chose to leave it, that I willingly disobeyed the house rules and thus put myself at odds with its mission and purpose.  While that may be true in some ways, I believe I did my best for a long time to fit in, to conform and obey, and ultimately it did not work.  For me at least.  I think that the LDS Church is a valid, helpful, and even beautiful spiritual home for many people, and if they are happy there I would never wish for them to leave.  At the same time, I believe that it is better to leave if you find it oppressive, and to search among the other existing spiritual homes, or even strike out on your own and build your own (whether it be a shack or a mansion).  That is the point I am at, and in "part 2" I will attempt to describe my ideal spiritual home and posit some ways I might be able to find it.

"out" of the garden: why mother eve and i are not so different

While visitng in Utah for Thanksgiving, I saw the BYU production of Children of Eden by Stephen Schwartz. I admit, I was surprised that BYU actually put the production on, because of some of the themes it contains. However, I really enjoyed it, since it furnishes a new way to look at some of the stories from the Book of Genesis. One of the more meaningful aspects of the story for me was how it portrayed Eve and Cain. In this version of the story, they both share a thirst for knowledge, not being content with the status quo. When she was tempted to eat the fruit, Eve expressed desire to know what lay beyond the bounds of Eden, and she wanted to have Father’s knowledge. Similarly, Cain was not content to stay in the wilderness with his parents and brother, Abel, waiting for Father to return and let them go back to Eden. He eventually learns that they will never be able to return, and actually forsakes his family’s pious, innocent existence in order to find out what lies “beyond the waterfall.” It’s certainly a much more sympathetic treatment of the traditionally evil, cursed character Cain is made out to be.

A few days later, while walking with a friend who had attended the musical with me, we discussed the story of leaving the innocence of the garden for a life of knowledge, which is both beautiful and painful. He shared a completely new application of the story of Eve’s choice, based on what we had seen in the musical the week before. Based on what he shared, this is how I conceived it for myself:

I grew up in the safe, innocent, even idealistic atmosphere of gospel doctrine and Mormon culture. The Church was my life—it formed the foundation of my views on everything, and I took everything it gave me without question, seeking only to do what was right and please my parents, church leaders, and ultimately God. The Church was my Eden. And just as Adam and Eve were given certain limits to what they could do (in being forbidden to eat the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil), I was given similar instructions to avoid certain substances, behaviors, and ideas. The part of those instructions I internalized most revolved around sexuality. I was then unaware of my own sexual orientation, though it began to manifest itself in some ways from an early age. But because of what I was taught, I sought for my entire adolescence to not only avoid anything sexual, but to actually annihilate my own sexuality, because I thought it was evil and wrong. I was not only trying to avoid the forbidden fruit, but actually believed I needed to chop the tree down.

As we know, Eve eventually spoke to the serpent, who convinced her that by eating the forbidden fruit, she would be wise like God, knowing all things. He conveniently did not mention that such knowledge would result in both joy and pain, and that knowledge, when misused, is dangerous. Even more, Eve would gain the knowledge of her own death and the death of her loved ones. Instead, the serpent played up the positive aspects of eating the fruit: gaining wisdom and becoming like God.

In my case, I would say that the serpents who told me the half-truths about being gay were our greater culture as well as the gay culture itself. From the popular, Western/American culture, I heard messages about the danger of being gay, that I would contract HIV and die a lonely and miserable reprobate. From the gay popular culture, I heard idealized messages about beautiful men, out-of-this-world sex and Broadway musicals. I even heard about the possibility of having a long-term relationship with a man.

Yes, these messages were seductive, and like Eve, I partook of the forbidden fruit. In the Genesis account, this was a single event, but for me it was a process that took a few years. I didn’t bite down all at once, but I took my time, tentatively tasting what I had for so long feared and avoided. I do remember the sweetness of my first kiss, which was just as innocent and earth-shattering as when Eve’s teeth pierced the skin of the fruit. That was the first time I had tasted affection from a man, and it changed my world forever. I felt fulfilled in ways that I had never felt before, and I finally understood why people cared about “love” and “sex” and “dating”—concepts I hadn’t ever really understood. Finally, I felt in touch with the deepest part of my humanity, and the prospect of finding fulfillment through the expression of my sexuality and pursuing relationships was delicious to me, and very desirable.

Some would say that was my Fall. Once I gained a clear and more perfect understanding of who I was, what I felt, and where that could lead, I found it increasingly difficult to stay in my Eden. God himself told Adam and Eve that they needed to leave, but in my case it was a combination of God, the Church, and my own volition. In the church, I felt increasingly uncomfortable as I realized that I would never be fully accepted or seen as worthy unless I denied the precious part of myself that I had so recently discovered. My whole goal as I evaluated my beliefs and tried to make important choices was to stay close to God, and let him guide me where I needed to go. I have indeed felt that guidance, and even to this day I can say that I feel that I am where I need to be, doing what I need to be doing. I ultimately came to the conclusion to effectively leave Mormonism, and venture into the “lone and dreary world,” full of hard work, grief, suffering as well as joy, love, fulfillment, and beauty.

There are some days that I do still yearn for the simplicity of Eden. That was a time when I had all of the answers, when I felt sure of my destiny and secure in my beliefs. I now live in a world that does not have easy answers, and I don’t know what tomorrow, let alone eternity, will bring for me. But I am content with my decision to be in this place, and knowing what I know now, I could never go back to Eden. I now see that in Eden I was incomplete, and that now because I have experienced both deep sorrow and profound joy, I feel fully alive. Similarly to what Adam and Eve expressed years after leaving the Garden, I can also say that “were it not for [my] transgression [I] should never have [known what it is to love and be loved in return,]…and because of my transgression, my eyes are opened, and in this life I shall have joy” (Moses 5:10-11).

a new look at old issues

Denver, CO—The state legislature held a special conference Monday to address current adolescent issues.  Mental health professionals, school administrators, and parents convened to discuss the factors that most influence teens’ personal and academic development.  Also among those present were many groups of adolescents who were there to express their views and share their experiences.  Of most concern to all were the treatment of reproductive and racial minorities in schools, and the programs designed to help under-achieving students who are often from affluent backgrounds.

Addressing the conference attendees, Marc Jasperson, member of the Denver Board of Education, said: “The time has come to address the great disparities that exist in our schools.  Some of our teens are growing up in a hostile educational and social environment, and we need to understand the factors involved in order to make changes and address needs.” 

One important issue addressed at the conference was the treatment of reproductive minorities.  Those who are attracted to the opposite sex are often put at odds with the dominant gay and lesbian culture, and those individuals find few resources in addressing the needs that come with their heterosexual orientation.  One male student said, “It’s hard feeling so different for something you have no control over.  I have been attracted to girls my whole life, and nothing I do can change that.  And the only thing they really tell us we can do after we get our education is make babies.  I don’t just want to make babies, I want a career.”  Indeed, there has even been controversy over the term “reproductive minorities” because the term seems to stereotype people with a heterosexual orientation as only wanting to reproduce between themselves. 

Carrol Harnsworth, director of State Reproductive Services, begs to differ.  “These kids want special treatment just because they feel they need to reproduce with the opposite sex.  Our services are specifically designed so that no one should need to have intercourse to reproduce.  Our egg and sperm donation programs and our surrogate network are proving to be very effective in serving the needs of the community.  It’s difficult to understand why some people choose not to participate.”

One student who has firsthand experience with this issue is Janelle Goatson.  At 15 years old, she has fallen into a peculiar predicament, since she is pregnant due to heterosexual intercourse.  As a girl from a wealthy family, she already lacked the social status she so desired in school.  “Since my parents pay for everything, I don’t know what I will do or where I will go when they find out.  Kids make fun of me, calling me a “breeder,” and I don’t know if I can finish school in this kind of environment.”

Janelle’s experience is not uncommon for heterosexual teens.  They often experience emotional and psychological difficulties as the result of teasing and discrimination.  Though research has shown some links of a heterosexual orientation to genetics, there is still much debate as to why the orientation still persists in society. 

Dr. Paula Fortin, a Denver area psychologist, pointed out some measures that can be taken to better support underprivileged students: “Teens need a healthy support structure.  This structure involves home and school, parents and teachers.  Students of a higher socioeconomic status, in an ethnic or racial minority, or who have a heterosexual orientation need all the more support because of the severe psychological as well as social difficulties they face.  As educators and parents we can go back to the things that have always worked: open communication, building trust, emphasizing love and not judgment, and promoting programs that help our students succeed.”

it's been a while

and I keep thinking I need to write some grand and glorious post about something terribly, terribly important.  But that isn't the point.  I have to remind myself of the beauty of simple, perhaps banal thoughts that I might want to share, since I so often enjoy the simple, sometimes banal thoughts of others.  I also hate update posts, but this might become one.

I feel like I'm in a whirlwind of experiences.  There are so many things to think about and so many things going on...it begins to seem daunting.  Let me be more specific:  I have been living in Colorado for two months now, and so much has already happened.  The simple answer to "How is Colorado?" is that I love my classmates, my classes (except statistics, but even that's going better), my roommates, my house, Fort Collins, the weather here, and Colorado State University. I have been impressed by the people I'm meeting, and the experiences I'm having.  I'm just starting the first step of a long road....but I still feel it is the right road, and I will stay on it.

In summer 2008, I had a couple experiences where I felt very strongly that I needed to pursue a PhD in Counseling Psychology.  I attribute those experience to divine guidance, and so I applied to programs, waited for responses, and ultimately ended up here, at CSU.  Now that I have been here for a couple months, I have begun evaluating again, to see if I am indeed where I still need to be.  And last week I had another confirming experience, perhaps less spiritual, but reassuring nonetheless.  I feel like this is a good program, and that Fort Collins is a place where I will be able to put down some roots, at least for the next few years.  This past weekend, I had a conversation where I began to convey my passion for psychology and my excitement at being on the path to my dream career, and it felt so so good.  I wouldn't want to do anything else, and I am so grateful that I have this opportunity to advance in my education and professional development.

Recent experiences have caused me to reflect on some themes or unresolved issues that I want to explore, some of which I may do on here, or perhaps in personal therapy.  But it helps to know and really feel that I am right where I need to be in my life, and that I am still going in the right direction. 

The Great Divorce-Westy Style

I have been in Colorado two days and I already have Colorado plates on my car.

Abrupt, you might say.  Sudden.  Rash.  But it's all part of my plan to become a Colorado resident (mostly for tuition purposes).  I met with the Financial Services office today and they laid out all the hoops I have to jump through to be recognized as a resident, which involves forming ties to Colorado and severing ties with my ex-state.  Sorry Utah, you were good to me for so many years, but I must move on.

So far, I love Fort Collins.  It's a beautiful city.  There are bicyclists everywhere, along with sprawling parks, trees every few feet, quaint neighborhoods, and the Rocky Mountains hovering in the distance.  I visited CSU's campus today and was quite impressed.  Being used to BYU, I thought I would be disappointed in another university, but so far I have been nothing but amazed and delighted.  It actually does remind me somewhat of BYU's layout, except there is about twice as much green space.  Everyone who helped me today was not only courteous but friendly and helpful.  That goes for CSU employees as well as the people at the sheriff's office, the county court offices, and the DMV.  

This is by far the calmest evening I've had since my arrival.  The first evening I went to a PFLAG ice cream social that a friend invited me to.  It was a wonderful experience because the focus was on finding ways to help the local Fort Collins religious community become more understanding and welcoming to its GLBT members.  Fourteen churches were represented, and each shared its intra-congregational struggles and brainstormed ways to move forward.  Mostly, it was touching to see parents who say with teary eyes, "I love my children--straight or gay."  

Last night I went out with my roommates (two really beautiful girls, one from Denver and one from Portland).  We ate at a lovely sushi restaurant, then strolled around Old Town, the city center with all the bars, boutiques, and restaurants.  After that--well, let's just say we got some champagne and it all went to our heads.  

I did, however, have a moment of feeling lonely today.  I had called and texted some friends, but with no response, and was feeling a bit daunted by the mass of paperwork I need to compile.  So what did I do?  I called my mommy.  She empathized and encouraged as she does best, and I felt better.  Of course it's normal to have moments like that during a significant transition, and so I just sit with my feelings and experience them as worthy expressions of the love for what I left behind.  There are certainly people here who will become some of my dearest friends, and I look forward to putting down roots here in Fort Collins.  My mom compared me today to a plant that has been transplanted, and I'm still feeling the shock but will eventually feel just as secure and grounded as I did in Utah.  These things simply take time.

As a friend told me yesterday, "Utah's loss is Colorado's gain."  I will always think of Utah as my home, but it does feel liberating and refreshing to break away from what I have known to settle in a new place.  So far I feel this new place welcoming me and inspiring me to continue with my personal and professional goals.  As long as I stay true to what is inside me, I don't believe it really matters where I call my home.  

"No More Goodbyes" - a response

Today I finished reading Carol Lynn Pearson's book, "No More Goodbyes: Circling the Wagons Around Our Gay Loved Ones." Reading it was a beautiful experience that reminded me that at the end of the day, we just need to love people. Just love people. Just love people.

We may not agree with others' choices, beliefs, or clothing style, but in spite of our differences we can love them. It is inevitable that we will encounter people with vastly different experiences from us, experiences that are no less valid than our own. Ultimately, I believe all we have to go on is our experience and what we can learn from others. Whether through prayer, study, listening to promptings, or reasoning, each of us must feel out, as best we can, the best path for us, and I believe we know when we are on the right path because it is then that we love life most and begin to understand who we really are.

My own experience as a gay man has taught me many beautiful truths about what it means to live and love, and how to be compassionate to other people, whatever their circumstances. I have learned that you can assume nothing about anyone. I have learned patience. I have sat down with difficult choices and tremendous consequences, weighed them carefully, and moved forward in ways that have blessed my life.

It was during my first semester at BYU that I finally realized/accepted/became aware that I am gay. A lifetime of confusion, self-hatred, repression, and denial melted away into an intense depression as I found myself in a group that even I had spoken ill of. It took a year or two to work through many issues, especially my religious beliefs and expectations for the future. I attended Evergreen, firesides, and other gatherings where I met other Mormon men who experience homosexual attraction. It was only about two years ago when I could finally say that I loved and cared about myself. Those beautiful feelings coincided with a general acceptance of who I am, and since then I have thought deeply about my purpose here on earth and my life's meaning.

In conclusion, I want to say that being gay has been one of the greatest blessings of my life. And reading Sister Pearson's book has reaffirmed that feeling and enhanced it. I recommend it to all, because it reminds us to be more aware and understanding of others' trials and conditions, whatever they may be. And most of all, it reminds us that we just need to love people. Whatever the situation, we must do our best to love others. I pray that my life can become a model of that kind of selfless, unconditional love, and that whatever I may face in the future that I can face it with strength and with self-assurance. May God help and bless us all.

dietary consciousness: a lesson in awareness

I am a vegetarian.  Well, perhaps more of a lacto-ovo-pescatarian at this point in time.  Let me explain: 

 A couple years ago, while at BYU, I was spending all my time on campus--every day, all day.  For convenience, I ate at the Cougareat, and over time I realized that all of my meals contained meat in them, and I began to be sick of always eating meat.  This view was supported by what I knew of the Word of Wisdom, which counsels to eat meat sparingly.  That part of the principle always seemed under-emphasized to me.  In church we always talked about avoiding coffee, tea, tobacco, alcohol, and drugs, but somehow rationalized that eating several hamburgers at a ward BBQ was okay.  Somehow that became a less important part of the law, and carnivorous gluttony seemed a lesser evil than drinking a cup of green tea.

 Anyway, the story continues with me moving into a house with fantastic roommates who were all vegetarian.  That fall we made a dinner group along with the girls who lived across the street--a vegetarian dinner group.  This was my first exposure to a complete vegetarian diet, and I appreciated the delicious preparations my friends and I made for dinner.  Though I still ordered meat dishes in restaurants, my consumption of meat was greatly reduced, and I felt better.  

 From that time on, I became a self-described "meat minimalist," and the only time I would eat meat was when I ate out, and even then not all the time.  The greatest change took place when a friend recommended a website to me, called chooseveg.com.  When I explored the website, it showed how animals are sometimes treated in farms and slaughterhouses, and I was appalled.  Having always been sensitive to the treatment of animals, I was horrified to see how the animals we eat are often deprived of their dignity and are mercilessly abused, then brutally killed.  The site explains ethical, environmental, and health reasons for being vegetarian.  Of course it’s biased toward promoting vegetarianism, but the experience jolted me enough to make me commit being a vegetarian.  My initial reason being that I did not want to support an industry that promotes such a degradation of life and a mass-marketing of cruelty.

 Since then my philosophy behind my diet as well as the diet itself has morphed and expanded, as I seek a reasonable way of living that follows the greater principles behind the practice.  The central principle that guides my eating practices (as well as my way of seeing the world) is CONSCIOUSNESS.  Consciousness of what I put in my body, where it comes from, what it means, and the effect my consumption has on the world around me.  More than anything, I am disgusted by the lack of connection we have to our food in general, whether we eat meat or not.  Thus the principle, in my opinion, is not completely about what I eat, but about recognizing that the food I ingest comes from somewhere, takes resources to produce, and might have a certain dignity that should be respected.  For example, I feel that a cow should have the dignity of being a cow while it is alive, free to roam the pasture, socialize with its cow friends, and then when it is time to kill it, to do so quickly and humanely.  More than anything, I advocate dignified treatment of the life that sustains our life—there is nothing wrong with eating meat, I believe.  It’s just that I am uncomfortable with the amount of meat our society consumes and the methods it uses to produce such mass quantities of meat.  There is a sense of entitlement to eating meat in our society that disgusts me, made worse by the lack of consciousness that the meat we consume comes from actual living things. 

 When I pray over my food, I thank God for the living things that have given their life that I might live—whether they be plants or animals.  I don’t know that I will always avoid eating meat and poultry, but I hope that I can maintain a consciousness about what I eat throughout my life, coupled with a gratitude and appreciation for the sources that sustain me. 

MoTab inspiration

Tonight I went to the free pre-tour concert put on by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.  While I have heard many of the songs many times over, I quite enjoyed the concert, and I was truly touched several times by either the words or the music.  While they sang "Come, come ye saints" these words stood out to me as they were backed by a beautiful sound:

"We'll make the air with music ring, shout praises to our God and King....All is well!"

I'm not sure why I liked that part so much, having sung it all my life, but perhaps the combination of the music and a few months of not having sung it helped me hear it with a fresh ear, and I was able to feel the beauty intended by those words.  

I think we should all make the air ring with the music of our praises to God, for being alive and for living in this beautiful world.  

sex and the salt lake city

I would try to start this post with something punny if I were sex columnist Carrie Bradshaw, but alas I am not.  

Sex and the City has become my all-time favorite television show.  I saw the movie last summer, and surprisingly liked it.  I was touched most by the love I saw between Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda, and Samantha--girlfriends extraordinaires.  Then, during my last semester at BYU, I began watching the TV version, then the DVD version of the series--and my life changed.  SATC provided much-needed catharsis and got me through those last lonely months at school.  

Like any fan, I took a few of the "Which Sex and the City character are you?" quizzes and the most reliable results put me as being about half Miranda and half Charlotte.  Which works.  I do have a practical side when it comes to relationships, at times trying to quell my feelings for someone because they are inconvenient and/or irrational.  Yet I am also the idealistic Charlotte, who after a successful outing with a man exclaims, "Maybe he's THE ONE!"  And while I might fit more comfortably in a Miranda or Charlotte role, I suppose I still aspire to be like the Queen of Sex herself, Samantha.  Avoiding commitment at every turn, she goes from one man to another, like the libidinous sybarite she is.  "It's just sex," she says.  

Samantha Jones has been the patron saint of my summer.  This is because I have a tendency toward monogamy, which probably comes from my upbringing, especially my strictly repressed sexual past.  With girls, who I was never attracted to or interested in, it was fine to go on a date with one girl one week and another the next week.  All in good fun, right?  However, my track record with men is that if I go on a couple good dates with a guy, we end up dating for however long.  That is not to say that I did not enjoy dating who I did in the past--and I am still friends with all of them and care about each of them.  But after all, I am 24, and have only gone out with a handful of men.  Yet there are so many men out there!  So many people to meet!  And at this point in my life I have felt the need to put myself out there and meet a lot of people, dating men with the same frequency and variety that I dated women, and just having a good time. Other factors in this include the fact that I am only in Utah for a couple more months, after which I move to Colorado, so I don't really want a serious relationship at this point.  And so to change things up and try a new approach, I took Samantha for my role model.

It began by finally signing up on Connexion, a networking website for LGB people.  I have many friends on it, but have also met several people on it who I have gone out on dates with.  Some were good, some were mediocre.  I would say that none were bad--no creepers and no jerks.  It has felt so good to be excited to go on a date, and not feel any fear of being seen or discovered.  I am finally able to again enjoy the dating scene--this time with the gender I am attracted to.  

However, I am afraid I am having a hard time sustaining the Samantha in me (probably because there is none), and I find myself sinking back into monogamy.  As much as I admire her, I don't think Samantha and I are compatible.  The Charlotte in me longs for the commitment, stability, and romance of a relationship.  Even if it's a short-term one.  And though nothing is for certain at this point, I have started seeing someone, and I recognize the old patterns returning.  If I enjoy being with someone who I am attracted to, why would I still go out with other people?  That seems to be the rhetorical question I ask myself to justify my monogamous habit, and though I would hate to admit it to Samantha, I think I am slipping back to my old ways.  

So there you have it.  Instead of a glamorous life of one night stands and hordes of lovers, I am most likely doomed to have short- and long-term monogamous relationships, full of commitment, stability, and romance.  And who knows, maybe I will even find "The One."  

mise-à-jour

It's been too long.  There are several subjects/themes I have been meaning to write about for some time floating around in my head, but have not taken the time.  And now we are well into the summer, and I am finally taking the time to write something.  But before I do, I just want to do a little update, so that there is at least some continuity going on....

So it happened.  I finally graduated from BYU!!!!  I quite literally thought it wasn't going to happen, but it all worked out.  I found my last year there particularly difficult, what with Prop 8, a run-in with the beloved Honor Code Office, and mounting anxiety and paranoia about being there.  I spent a lot of my mental time there repeating the rosary prayer, "I don't belong here. I don't belong here."  And guess what?!?!  I felt like I didn't belong and I wanted out even more.  I swore I was going to leave BYU with some kind of anxiety disorder.  My trust in others was essentially hit by a nuclear bomb when I was reported to the HCO, and even though nothing happened, the paranoia, bitterness, and feeling of separateness only increased, until I couldn't stand it anymore.  It numbed the nostalgic feelings I would probably have had, and all I wanted was to graduate and get my diploma.  

That is why I am so grateful I participated in the commencement exercises.  I hadn't anticipated BYU graduation to be such an uplifting, healing, and emotional experience for me.  Yet I found myself moved when I sat in the Marriot Center with my fellow graduates, and I felt a stir of pride as my degree was conferred upon me.  Over the days of commencement and convocation, the bitterness, anger, and distance I had felt for months were eroded away, and I was left with a sense of gratitude for the education I received at BYU, and pride for the achievements and contributions I made while there.  As I sat there, I thought, "You know, I do belong here.  I have made meaningful contribution to the school as well as the education of the students here.  I have every right to possess this diploma, and I am actually proud to do so."  Ultimately, I feel that though BYU may not think so, my life will reflect the values and standards of excellence that it promotes.  I do believe in the saying, "Enter to learn, go forth to serve," and I hope that my personal and professional life can be reflections of the wisdom contained in it.

The way I frame my BYU experience, at least for now, is similar to the way I frame my mission.  It was a cherished experience that was very difficult at times that I would never do again.  And though I might disagree with certain policies and practices at BYU, I can say that I love the school, and that 95% of my happy memories from the last four years are tied to BYU.

But that doesn't mean I wasn't excited to leave, and even more thrilled to receive my diploma in the mail a month ago.  Physical possession of the diploma, to me, symbolized complete emancipation and freedom from retribution.  Essentially, I felt that once I got my diploma in hand, my education and professional future were no longer contingent upon my lifestyle choices, and that I was no longer bound to a moral code I no longer believe in.  And all I can say is that since I got my diploma my life has expanded and developed in wonderful ways (which will be detailed in other posts).  Basically, I moved out of my parents' house into an apartment in Salt Lake with two other gay guys, and I have been soaking up life with many of the people who are dearest to me.  I feel like I am in a secure, centered place spiritually, physically, relationally, and emotionally.  Basically--life is good. 

Saint Patrick's Day

Last summer, we discovered that Samantha, one of the stray cats who had adopted my family, had given birth to a kitten.  He was born under some boards next to the building we call the pad, so we named him Paddy (which we decided was also short for Patrick).  We watched him grow and though he was initially afraid of us, we were able to get to the point where we could pet him and play with him.  He had such a cute, playful personality.  My mom especially adored him, and she build Paddy and his mom a little shelter next to our front door for the winter.  Both were outdoor cats, and they were content to play in our yard and catch birds and mice or whatever else they could find.  

Tonight, my mom told me that on Saturday night Paddy didn't come around when she called before bed.  The next morning our neighbor called to say that there was a cat in the middle of the road.  My mom knew it was Paddy, and so she and my dad went to get him, and they buried him a couple feet from the place where he was born.  Mom told me she planted a flower over his grave today too.

I was sad to hear the news, but in the few hours since hearing the news, I have been tearful and just a little bit sad.  It might be because I have had a lot of emotion in the past couple months but haven't been able to release it until now, but it has felt so good to cry tonight.  I guess Paddy's death has once again reminded me that life is so precious and so easily lost.  I have seen Paddy's whole life, and to me it is a reminder that whether we live for 9 months, 9 years, or 90 years, we will all die.  Though I have worked through a lot of my feelings toward death and mortality, I guess there will always be pain when I lose someone I care about and love, even if it is a pet.  Funny how animals can touch us so deeply that we cry over them when they pass away.  Of course I'm more of a softie than most.  

So on this Saint Patrick's Day, I will be remembering my Patrick, the adorable kitten who was with us only a brief time, but who brought much joy and amusement to my family.

    

carl rogers, "on becoming human"

"Neither the Bible nor the prophets--neither Freud nor research, neither the revelations of God nor man can take precedence over my own direct experience."

SAD

Over the past five years, I have noticed a pattern:  about the end of December or beginning of January, I begin feeling apathetic, depressed, irritable, and just not myself.  By the end of February or March, I feel cheery and "normal" again.  However, it was only last year when I became aware of the pattern, and though I somewhat anticipated it returning again this winter, I was hoping I could stave it off with exercise, sleep, and a healthy diet.  Well...not so lucky.  I took a look at the most common symptoms of seasonal affective disorder, and I found several that apply (and that recur every year, around this time):

• a change in appetite (somewhat)
• weight gain (i wish)
• a drop in energy level (yep)
• fatigue (yep)
• a tendency to oversleep (somewhat)
• difficulty concentrating (yep)
• irritability and anxiety (yep, much to my chagrin)
• increase sensitivity to social rejection (yep)
• avoidance of social situations and loss of interest in the activities you used to enjoy (yep, it sucks)

I don't really know what the point of my writing this is; I suppose I just want to state that I have this problem, and I need to figure out the best way of going about it.  I just don't feel like myself right now, and I feel more frustrated than anything that my brain chemistry gets screwed up at times when I really have so much good in my life.  Well, this isn't meant to be a pity party, but if anyone has some Prozac to spare, send it over.