talking to people of faith.

A few things.

First, this article by professor Michael J. Stevens on his studies of elevated passive aggressive behavior in Mormons raised on the Wasatch Front:

"As I began to teach my usual rotation of courses using the BDQ, I noticed a striking trend with my students along the Wasatch Front—occurring with undergraduate and graduate (MBA) students, and with males and females. The preference for the avoidance style of conflict resolution was surfacing at a significantly higher rate than I had seen in the Midwest and Texas... Passive-aggression is the least common response option to conflict among the U.S. population at large and is typically viewed as an inadequate and unconstructive strategy (at least over the long term). It is generally used by those who would prefer that the conflict simply go away... In its milder forms, passive-aggression will manifest itself merely as polite and innocuous attempts to steer clear of uncomfortable topics or encounters with others. However, in its more insidious forms, passive-aggression can rise to a level of interpersonal hostility and contempt that embodies a “whatever” response to the views and opinions of others... The presence of significantly elevated levels of passive-aggression among the LDS population born and raised along the Wasatch Front deserves some analysis." ~read more

Then in the SFF community, This open letter from Nancy Fulda about feeling discriminated against for being Mormon:

"In a recent conversation with other authors who are practicing a religious faith, it became apparent that many of us feel social pressure to hide our beliefs. I’m not talking about common politeness and self-censoring during conversations at conventions and on the internet. That’s a no-brainer. I hope anyone who’s met me in person can testify that I’m not the kind of jerk who goes around rubbing other people’s noses in her opinions. I’m talking about something else. I’m talking about feelings of rejection because of who we are and what we believe — independent of any specific actions we have taken. Feelings of invalidation and dehumanization. Fear of being ridiculed or publicly dogpiled if we allow our religious affiliations to be known..... I realize that many people within SFF have had horrible experiences with members of organized religions. I am not those people who mistreated you. Please do not treat me as if I were. Once we have gotten to know each other, you may conclude that I am a despicable person, or you may decide that I am actually quite reasonable. I can deal with either option, but please do not reduce me to a stereotype." ~read more

A response from Keffy Kehrli:

"Basically, it’s religious intolerance unless I remain completely polite in all instances, no matter what someone says? It’s religious intolerance if I emphatically distance myself from any single tenet of what someone believes? Fuck that.....If you want to start dialogue with, “I want to discuss this but refuse to change any aspect of my faith,” then why the fuck should I participate? What’s in it for me, except a gradual wearing down of my defenses until I smile pretty and agree that why yes anything you say is totally acceptable regardless of any potential harm it may do to others?... Wow, it must be really nice to be so privileged that as long as nobody raises their voice, you feel welcome and comfortable. That must be fucking amazing. You know what makes me feel unsafe in a space? When someone rolls out some bullshit about queers and then nobody SAYS ANYTHING BACK because we’re all just being nice here and arguing isn’t nice. Fuck nice.
" ~read more

The other side of that argument from Christie Yant:

"In the vast USian social, political, and cultural arena, we as atheists, agnostics, Jews, pagans, Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims, Baha’ist, Wiccans, B’Nai Noach, Sikhs, etc. often feel excluded and as if the majority were living in a completely different world than we are....And then we find SFF, and the majority is like us. Or at least, not Christian. It is a tremendous relief–we can breathe....We forget that there are people among us with deeply held religious views, who believe in a higher authority and in mysteries that don’t require proof. We start to talk about religious people as if they are stupid (they are not). We don’t understand why or how anyone could think the way that they do. We openly mock their beliefs in our conversation, our shared popular culture... People are afraid to mention that they went to church, or that they pray, because they are afraid that they will be derided and treated with contempt. They have good reason to feel that way. I know exactly how that feels, and I should know better than to do it someone else... I don’t assume that an individual necessarily agrees with every aspect of their church’s doctrine (and am often shocked when I learn that they do agree). There are Catholics who use birth control and Mormons who support marriage equality and Jews who oppose circumcision." ~read more

Yesterday was the memorial for my Grammy, my mom's mom. Our family is so rife with religious tension; I've gotten used to feeling isolated and excluded for having left the Mormon tradition to become an atheist but I tend to forget, my mother joined the Mormon church in her twenties, earning her isolation and exclusion from her extremely evangelical Christian family, causing protracted tensions and religious arguments that have lasted decades.  Yesterday's memorial had distasteful elements of the Evangelical crowd using a eulogy to target and exclude the Mormon contingent in the family. To target my mom. (Who at times has barely been able to speak to me because of my own choices regarding faith. Well, and vice versa, I admit.)  Wow I wish I had a better way to wrap this all up nice and tidy with a great conclusion, but I don't. I'm too guilty in too many ways and just want move on and get to work.

awesome women

(just a random collection of awesomeness I've recently run across.)

Theodora Goss blogs about magical women:

"...They make the world more magical, show me the parts of it that are magical, in case I’ve forgotten... To the arts in some form, specifically to the mythic in arts, and to arts that change the world. I think it takes a great deal of courage to be one of the people who tries to change the world in some way — I’ve heard too many people say that they’re not trying to change the world, that they’re just trying to entertain (particularly in their writing). But that’s the point of that? If you’re not trying to change the world, what are you doing, and why? I mean, doesn’t the world need changing?" ~read more 

Shanna Germain talks about turning 41:

"You climb to the pinnacle of this mountain. There: You’ve learned something about yourself. How to love or be loved. How to let go. How to hold on. How to dress. A little confidence. How to hold your heart in your hand and give it to someone else. How to ask for help.
Down the other side. Broken. You forget what you’ve learned. You sit in the shade of the valley for a long time. Wet, cold, hungry and pissed off. You’re trying damnit. Why doesn’t the world make it easier? Fuck this.
Eventually your ass is wet and you get up again. Start up the other mountain. Those things you learned join you like torpedos, like jet packs, like best friends, like the perfect tools. You learn, you discover, you ask with the echo of your voice through the sky and sometimes you get answers." ~read more

Rosalind Robertson discusses 21 things to help keep you shit together when you're depressed:

No. 5 is "Pick up a paintbrush, a pencil, an activity you got joy from in the past and re-explore that.  Or, sign up for the thing you always wanted to try. There is a long history and link between depression and creativity. It’s a bright light of this condition, so utilize it to your best advantage."

No. 18 is "Simple exercise, if you can. It can be something as simple as taking the stairs up a flight, or walking around the block. It doesn’t have to be elaborate, it doesn’t have to involve climbing a mountain or running a marathon. Baby steps." ~read more 

Anna Haupt and Terese Alstin designed an invisible bike helmet.


The Invisible Bicycle Helmet | Fredrik Gertten from Focus Forward Films on Vimeo.


Finally, this is an old one. but I love it. Amanda Palmer, in my mind

"The Thing About Things" (AFP)

Amanda Palmer has a new song out. You can listen to it here, (lyrics here).

This part~>

"i can carry everything i need in one collapsing suitcase
i can carry everyone i love in one phone application
built to optimize the facetime with the ties i’m bent on making
actually i want to be alone
to mourn the loss
of what this cost
i collected you but now you are all lost" ~more

That part hits close.

(And this....

"the thing about things is that they can start meaning things
nobody actually said...
and if you’re not allowed
to love people alive
then you learn how to love people dead" ~more

 Struggling, lately, with being able to feel much.)

But then there's this:  a murmuration of starlings. (And I do start to feel something.)  

how to be alone.

i like this. a lot.

(more birds)

It's not too late. Maybe this will be the year I get my bird tattoo.

(A friend linked to this Neko Case song on twitter, swooning now.)


Oh my sparrow, it's too late
Your body limp beneath my feet
Your dusty eyes cold as clay
You didn't hear my warning
Didn't hear my warning
~neko case, Maybe Sparrow.


Save the sparrows.

free the birds. (100 other lovers, Shake it out.)

"...I am in love with an idea
Sophisticated Neurological appeals
I want to negotiate some kind of a deal
I want to tear it open show you that it's real..."

~Devotchka. 100 other lovers.



"...I am done with my graceless heart
So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart
Cause I like to keep my issues strong
It's always darkest before the dawn..."

~Florence and the Machine, Shake it Out

*****

Anyways, last month a tree happened to sprout up in my
book. I was quite pleased with that.

wierd is okay.

Read an interesting article the other day.

I learned a few helpful labels; ie my preference for solitary activities and for work over play may be tied to Social Anhedonia. My difficulty with close relationships and intimacy, as well as my odd social quirks could be linked to a Schizotypal personality. My distress at the inability to successfully filter out the pervasive stream of information (and my ways of coping with it) could be a touch of Cognitive disinhibition.

It's nice that "weird" is being more appreciated lately (the market value of out-of-the-box thinking helping to facilitate positive social change in work-place environments), but I'm haunted by the fact that I'm merely missing the higher IQ and a greater working memory required to pull all the odd edges together into actual viable creative power. (Heh, that itch just never seems to go away for me, even after an artistically busy and successful year.)

********
Random wrap-up stuffs;
I have been enjoying Bones quite a bit (yes I know, I am a bit late to jump on that bandwagon). Particularly, I love actress Emily Deschanel's portrayal of dr Temperance Brennan with a social awkwardness that boarders on Asbergers Syndrome. Then, from the more tortured end of the genius spectrum, I finally got around to watching Sylvia. Personally, I wanted more from the movie, particularly, I wanted more of Sylvia's words. So here, November Graveyard, performed by Plath herself:

The scene stands stubborn: skinflint trees
Hoard last year's leaves, won't mourn, wear sackcloth, or turn
To elegiac dryads, and dour grass
Guards the hard-hearted emerald of its grassiness
However the grandiloquent mind may scorn
Such poverty. No dead men's cries

Flower forget-me-nots between the stones
Paving this grave ground. Here's honest rot
To unpick the heart, pare bone
Free of the fictive vein. When one stark skeleton
Bulks real, all saint's tongues fall quiet:
Flies watch no reserrections in the sun.

At the essential landscape stare, stare
Till your eyes foist a vision dazzling on the wind:
Whatever lost ghosts flare
Damned, howling in their shrouds across the moor
Rave on the leash of the starving mind
Which peoples the bare room, the blank, untenanted air.
~sylvia plath

love and marriage

Yep, still reading Marriage, a History. (I started it 5 months ago!?)

In fact I just finished chapter 10 on the sentimentalization of Marriage in 19th century Europe and N.America. The chapter ends with this excerpt:

"In the late 18th century, conservatives had warned that unions based on love and desire for personal happiness were inherently unstable. If love was the most important reason to marry, how could society condemn people who stayed single rather than enter a loveless marriage? If love disappeared from a marriage, why shouldn't a couple be allowed to go their separate ways? If women and men were true soul mates, why should they not be equal partners in society?

At the beginning of the 19th century, the doctrine that men and women had innately different natures and occupied separate spheres of life seemed to answer these questions without unleashing the radical demands that had rocked society in the 1790's.

The doctrine of separate spheres held back the inherently individualistic nature of the 'pursuit of happiness' by making men and women dependent upon each other and insisting that each gender was incomplete without marriage. It justified women's confinement to the home without having to rely on patriarchal assertions about men's right to rule. Women would not aspire to public roles beyond the house because they could exercise their moral sway over their husbands and through them over society at large. Men were protecting women, not dominating them, by reserving political and economic roles for themselves."

(This excerpt ends with a big "But...." and leads us into the next chapter entitled "A Heaving Volcano: Beneath the surface of Victorian Marriage")

Anyhow, I found it fascinating because this view of marriage and gender roles was the one I raised with almost 200 years after it first became a trend.

Oh! Also interesting was chapter 9 on the invention of the Male breadwinner ideal including how women's labor suddenly became radically undervalued in the world of cash transactions, significantly increasing wives financial dependence on husbands. And how the sentimentalization of the wife-as-homemaker made it a status symbol, a working class aspiration.

(Here's all my status updates on this book if you're interested.)

Not feeling up to expounding a whole lot on this... Just thought I'd make a note of it. Quite enjoying this book.

winter is my discontent

There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons--
That opresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes...
-emily dickinson (full poem here)

Perhaps it's seasonal depression, perhaps it's the pressure of holiday season, perhaps it's facing a dying year and another birthday (Capricorn!) and fears of growing older... but whatever it is, Winter is my down time. My off season. And I start to feel the first strokings of this right about now, the Fall. (Which sucks, living in Tucson; Fall is such a relief from the heavy summer heat. I LOVE Fall and Winter!)

The past few years the off-ness has actually been a heavy crash, a fairly burdensome melancholy. But this year, I have a plan, and lists of little things to jumpstart out of a downward spiral if I start down that path. Little rituals and routines for my salvation. Heh, I started to list what my rituals are, but they are so benign and boring, sufice it to say, I have them, and they are easy, and I think they will work. We'll see if they work, if I can embrace this season of death with hope. (Hehheh.)

Meanwhile, for your viewing entertainment, two absolutely delightful music video's which a friend shared with me, and BOTH of them touch upon the dying times of Fall and Winter.
The short animated "Rain" and the most exquisit Emilie Simon's "Fleur de Saison" (Sorry, couldn't embed them, but do go see them; pure amazing.)

Religion (and coincidental quotes)

A passage I just read, not two seconds ago, that seems marvelously coincidental to some of the thoughts I've been having lately:

"If you could take the skewers of religion, those that riddle your frame, make you aware every time you move- if you could withdraw the scimitars of religion from your mental and moral systems- could you even stand? Or do you need religion as, say the hippos in the Grasslands need the poisonous little parasites within them, to help them digest fiber and pulp? The history of peoples who have shucked off religion isn't an especially persuasive argument for living without it. Is religion itself- that tired and ironic phrase- the necessary evil?"

-Elphaba, The Witch of the West
Wicked. pg 387

I'm not sure of my opinion (or knowledge) of 'peoples who have shucked off religion' but what has been on my mind a lot are the stringent requirements/belief structure of the LDS church (skewers and scimitars?) and the relaxed requirement/belief structures of other faiths I am learning about and the various detriments and benefits of both.


Joseph Smith said "Let us here observe, that a religion that does not require the sacrifice of all things never has power sufficient to produce the faith necessary unto life and salvation."
That quote chafes me now, it smacks of rhetorical propaganda, a carrot on a stick to keep members from being enticed by other less sacrificial belief systems.

But, perhaps, that "sacrifice" is the necessary evil? Necessary to what? I have lost the belief in religion's claims to salvation, but perhaps, on a human-nature level, social level, personal accountability level... necessary, beneficial? (What of those 'peoples who have shucked off religion'?)

Perhaps I am thinking too much, reading too much into Maguire's words (re-interpreting his words).

Perhaps I should just finish the book.

Thunder Thighs

So enough about shoulders...

When we were dating, my lover, in a moment of awe and admiration, referred to my hips as “Thunderous”. Apparently he was unaware of the negative connotation of “Thunder Thighs.”
HAHAHAHAHA!

And for your entertainment, Lucille Clifton’s brilliant poem,
"Homage to My Hips"

these hips are big hips.
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top

the mormon woman

"...Unto the woman, I, the Lord God said; I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception. In sorrow thou shalt bring forth children, and thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee." -Moses 4: 22

"Adam fell that men might be, and men are that they might have joy"-2Nephi 2:25

he gets the credit and the joy, she gets the blame and the sorrow.

Sometimes, when I let it, I tremble with rage.

A guest post over at Zelophehads Daughters asks about the contradictions that Mormon Women face. I copied Lynnette's response in my journal, it was that good, and put into words many of the disturbing contradictions I have been trying to reconcile:

"There are several contradictions in LDS teachings related to gender that I’ve found particularly challenging:

–We say on the one hand that Eve made the right choice, and she is honored for it. However, the Eden story remains the basis for the ritual subordination of women. Are women being punished for Eve’s transgression?

–We talk about God being no respecter of persons, and say that every human being is a child of God with divine potential. Yet while men are told that they can become like God, and are authorized to use God’s power, it’s much less clear what the eternal role of women consists of–and there are disturbing indications that their ultimate purpose is to facilitate male exaltation (along the lines of Paul’s observation that “Neither was the man created for the woman; but the woman for the man.”)

–We emphasize that personal revelation is available to everyone, and yet in our most sacred spaces only men covenant to hearken to God directly, whereas women’s access to God is formally mediated through their husbands.

–We talk about marriage being both patriarchal and egalitarian, asserting both that the husband “presides” and that the two are “equal partners”. I see these two principles as being fundamentally in conflict.

–We say that motherhood is of the utmost importance, and that the most important thing a woman can do is raise her children–and yet we have no information about Heavenly Mother, and in fact are explicitly told that communication with her is off-limits.

All of these issues have been discussed at length here and elsewhere on the Bloggernacle, of course, and I’m well aware that many interpret them differently and would disagree with my assertion that they involve contradictions. But for me personally, one of the basic contradictions in my religious life has been between my experience of myself as a full human being and my personal encounters with God which have led me to hope that God in fact sees me that way–and LDS teachings and practices which challenge that notion. I can’t say I’ve resolved that contradiction, though for my own peace of mind I’ve tended to put more faith in the former and hope that the latter are tied up with the challenges of a fallen world, rather than being the result of divine decree."

All I can add is "Amen sister!"

spirituality and fun

"[Christianity] was the religion in which divinity was revealed by scars on the flesh." -Sara miles

For a good part of my life I felt wounded, struggling with depression and low self image. Often my art reflected this pain, imagery of cuts, wounds, a pierced and bleeding heart. While these metaphorical wounds were painful, yet I think I also held them as badges of my spirituality. A twisted token of the atonement where I felt Christ's pain and was closer to Him because of it. Spirituality, in my mind was associated with solemnity, sacrifice, seriousness... And suffering. And I was very very spiritual.

But now I am conflicted. I do not feel so wounded any more. I no longer feel cut up and bleeding inside. In fact, I feel rather... frisky? Lighthearted and enjoying life. A sense of levity. I quite surprised myself the other day, when I went shopping for a bathing suit (hadn't bought one in seven years, it was about time!) and found that the one I liked the most was a brilliant turquoise bikini. (!!!) I am having a hard time reconciling this with my 'spiritual' sensitivities (not to mention my feminist sensitivities. I remember reading The Beauty Myth and thinking that I should dress in somber grays from head to foot. But that was my misinterpretation, not Naomi Wolf's intent.) Well, I bought that flashy bathing suit... but also bought a more conservative, modest, muted one too. Just in case? Because perhaps I'd feel more 'spiritual' in olive green and with more of my tummy covered? (Or maybe I'm just worried that when it comes to actually wearing that tiny blue thing in public I will find I am really not that frisky. I guess I'll find out in a month or so.) (Don't get me wrong, the other suit I bought is attractive and flattering... but the difference in "personality" between the two is huge.)
Anyways, It got me thinking.

They say sweet is the peace the gospel brings, and men are that they might have joy, but just what does that mean?

I am reminded of that story about the person who went to see the prophet Joseph Smith and found him rough-housing with some kids and was shocked and offended that a 'prophet of god' would behave like that. (Or something along those lines... can anyone give me a reference for this story? I am too lazy right now to try to find it right now.)

I no longer feel so serious, somber, or wounded... and sometimes it makes me wonder if I am no longer spiritual.

Is spirituality compatible with levity? I'm trying to find out.

(P.S. yes... this also means that yet another source of my artistic inspiration has dissipated... still trying to work through that artists block.)

a petty god

From Philip Pullman's The Subtle Knife;
"There are two great powers and they have been fighting since time began. Every advance in human life, every scrap of knowledge and wisdom and decency we have has been torn by one side from the teeth of the other. Every little increase in human freedom has been fought over ferociously between those who want us to know more and be wiser and stronger, and those who want us to obey and be humble and submit." (pg. 320)

This passage brought back, quite vividly, a memory from about ten years ago. I was newly returned from serving in the mission field. I was saturated in the gospel, my testimony rock solid, I had never been more assured that I would never lose my faith. Then one day I was sitting in the temple, my mind wandering just a tad during the endowment session, and an idea began to grow of this petty God who knew that his only way to maintain the little power he had was to make his subjects think they had to constantly humble themselves before him, never question him, always obey and always submit. this God knew that if they ever stopped debasing themselves before him they would gain great power, and not need him anymore, and he couldn't tolerate the idea of his losing what little authority he had. What an idea to pop into my (fully faithful) head during the temple endowment (a ceremony set up to re-enforce the notion of submission and obedience to God). I was quite shocked at what my mind had conjured up. Where did that come from? This little fantasy of God as a petty power-hungry manipulator using a smokescreen of omnipotence and mercy, what dark part of my mind did that crawl out of? Later, I remember mentioning it to my father; "so, have you ever wondered if...?" The response was immediate: "Absolutely not!!!" Of course, I didn't believe it either... but I was a little disturbed that I had thought it.

Reminds me of another passage from The Subtle Knife, the words of an officer of the magisterium (the church;) "By their fruits shall ye know them. By their questions shall ye see the serpent gnawing at their heart..."

Now, ten years later, it is the church that I don't believe in. Perhaps I had a little snake snacking on my heart, perhaps not. Who knows all the different paths I could have taken. But this is where I am. I have no faith in any religious organization to represent God. But I do still believe in God. Sort of. Sometimes. Okay, I have to admit that my concept of God is taking quite a beating. Really not sure what to think about deity right now (aside from a lingering trust that there is something bigger out there).
But that is for another post.

P.S. my copy of The Amber Spyglass is at the library, waiting for me to pick it up! I have really enjoyed this trilogy.
P.P.S my copy of God's Problem just came in the mail!!! more about that one soon....

one in thine hand

(this is a pic my lover and I snapped on a little get-a-way we took about a week ago. lots of fun)

I am reading the most fabulous book right now. It is called A History of the Wife, by Marilyn Yalom and it charts the evolution of marriage in the Judeo-Christian world through the centuries. Highly recommend it. When I finish it I'll write a review (maybe. depends on how busy I am).

And just last night I read a passage that made me think specifically about how we as mormons view marriage. In Germany in the 1500's a monk by the name of Martin Luther challenged the churches stance on a whole list of things... and one of them was the celibacy of monks. Luther didn't believe this practice was based in the scriptures, was unnatural, and that marriage (and sexuality within marriage) should be open to all, both priest and laymen. Interestingly enough, Luther also "argued that marriage was not a sacrament-a religious ceremony of sacred significance. He... reduced the seven Catholic sacraments to three; only baptism, penance, and the Eucharist remained... [as] necessary for salvation." (pg. 99)
In other words, he was all for marriage, but not as a spiritual requirement.

Which led me to think of the LDS view of marriage as an ordinance necessary for salvation (Elder Holland has even used the word 'sacrament' to refer to marriage and the marital bed). If it doesn't happen in this life, well... the LDS culture is working hard to change the view that you are a bit of a failure, and there is always the promise of being able to marry someone in the here-after. Because it needs to happen. Or else you can't go to heaven. Not only that, but it needs to happen in an LDS temple, or it doesn't count. When I read Luther's words last night, I wondered if perhaps the Church's emphasis on the necessity of being married (in the temple) to go to heaven, wasn't as unnatural as the Catholic Church's emphasis on being celibate. A situation which doesn't fit for everyone, and in the striving to fit, problems occur.

I love my husband, and we are such a good match for each other. but I have also seen some very bad matches that have occurred because of a rush to marry, to do what God requires.

(And, btw, the whole arguement that Jesus was married 'because-he-had-to-be-married-like-he-had-to-be-baptized' really trivializes the whole concept of marriage for me. Totally. It's my dad's favorite theory, and I just cringe inside at the thought of wife-as-object-for-salvation.)

Just some of my late night thoughts. What do you think?

Meme's... and fortunate coincidences in sequential reading.

So, the book closest to my hand at this moment, the one I am reading most right now; The Astonishing life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the Nation. Written by M.T. Anderson.

How doth all that seeks to rise burn itself to nothing.

The men who raised me were lords of matter, and in the dim chambers I watched as they traced the spinning of bodies celestial in vast, iron courses, and bid sparks to dance about upon their hands; they read the bodies of fish as if each dying trout or shad was a fresh Biblical Testament, the wet and twitching volume of a new-born Pentateuch. They burned holes in the air, wrote poems of love, sucked the venom from sores, painted landscapes of gloom, and made metal sing; they dissected fire like newts.

Thank you Lessie, for tagging me. I tag the bibliophile boquinha... as well as anyone out there who wants to continue this meme. What you do is pick up the nearest book that is at least 123 pages long, read the first five sentences, post the next three, and then tag five people. (I know... I didn't tag five, I really suck at these 'chain-letter' things.)

Now, a little bit about fortunate coincidences in my current reading trends... Octavian Nothing has been a quite provoking read, compounded by coming so close on the heels of The Golden Compass. Likewise, A History of the Wife is absolutely FASCINATING, especially as a follow up to the recently finished Well Behaved Women Seldom Make History. And the queue of books waiting for consumption on my night stand contains In Defense Of Food and Animal, Vegetable, Miracle; promising intriguing expansions and variations upon similar themes.

love it.

like a fire burning

"I, the highest and fiery power, have kindled every living spark and I have breathed out nothing that can die... I flame above the beauties of the fields; I shine in the waters, in the sun, the moon, and the stars, I burn, and by means of the airy wind, I stir everything into quickness with a certain invisible life which sustains all... I, the fiery power, lie hidden in these things as they blaze from me." - Hildegard of Bingen.



I first felt it when I was 23. I was a missionary who hadn't yet 'felt the spirit' when in the middle of a private prayer I felt like my heart had just lit up like a light bulb, a physical, almost disturbing sensation of space and illumination within the cavity of my ribcage. So tangible I stopped praying and opened my eyes... did I have heart-burn? was I having a heart-attack? no... just lightness. burning. cooling. And after that it would turn on at various times, in church, during discussions, while reading the scriptures, sometimes for no reason I could really tell.

Now, ten years later, after a devastating crisis of faith... It is still there. Not so predictable, more elusive. But there. Even sometimes in church, though I don't go very often anymore because when I do it is usually tedious at best, exhaustingly painful at worst. So odd that this icy cool light would blink on when I am enduring a talk full of statements that I no longer believe... but it happens (including a tiny flash in a sacrament meeting in mexico where I couldn't understand a word).
So too I felt it when conflicted with feelings and desire to pray to the Heavenly Mother... 'Oh please, dear Father, please let this be right..." and my veins tingled with warmth like my heart had transmuted all my blood into some luminous substance. I felt it briefly when I visited a quaker meeting, as well as almost every time I take the chance to get away by myself for a hike.

All my definitions have shifted, my beliefs on the nature of God, the godhead, The Holy Spirit, all of it. I no longer know exactly how to explain this feeling I get. That nasty antichrist Korihor accuses religious people of having a frenzied minds, deranged, minds and I do wonder sometimes if I haven't just manufactured these sensations. But I really don't believe that. I want to believe in something bigger and greater and all encompassing. I just no longer know exactly what that is.

figuring it out II

I bet that in my journal almost as much ink is used to record the words of other people as is used to record my own ideas and thoughts. It stems from my lack of skill with the written language; everyday I come across something written (or said) by someone else that neatly sums up a concept that I was struggling to put in plain English. I used a good amount of ink to copy down some of the things Sara Miles wrote in this book. Not only is this a beautiful account of her conversion and finding of her life’s mission to feed the poor, in this book she also puts into words some of the feelings and ideas that I have been having regarding organized religion (especially the Mormon religion, the faith I was raised in). Here are a few passages from the book:

“Any church was going to be disappointing. Wherever I went, I’d have problems as well as glorious epiphanies. Wherever I went I’d have to meet myself, and other people, if I wanted to get closer to God.”

“Everything I yearned for… was never going to be found neatly wrapped up inside the comfortable rituals of Religion… I was going to have to hunt in what the Bible called ‘the rough places,’ ‘the lonely places,’ ‘the desert”; among the people who had been cast out, in one way or another from the church.”

"[I reflected] on all the ways religion tried to manage and tame God; through compulsive rule-making, magical rituals, good behavior, [and] the sheer weight of church tradition."

Sara still chose to work from within from within a church and congregation to pursue her calling from the Lord. I keep wondering if I could not do the same. However, the small liberal Episcopal Church that Sara found God in is a far cry from Mormondom, particularly the brand I was raised with. There are so many things that I think, but cannot say to my LDS friends and family. I have become hidden, underground. Am I DAMU?