a day in the life of G (spring 2009)

This is getting to be a bit of a annual habit, but I thought I'd revisit my "day in the life of" thing again. Here is what a day in my life looked like about a year ago, and here is what a day in my life looked like two years ago.
(wow, life in fast forward.)

Anyhow, here's what it looks like now:

Mon - Wed:

6 or 6:30 am: Get son ready for school, Help hubby get ready for work (on a good day one of us packed the lunches the night before. on a bad day, well... rush rush rush.)

7:15 Leave to drive son to kindergarten. It's a 30 min drive, which is tedious. At first I would drive him to school then drive home to try to get stuff done then drive back to pick him up, etc... and that was 2 hrs of driving in a day. Totally sucked.
Now I do things differently. After dropping off son, I stay "in town". Initially I would do all sorts of things trying to be creative with the time. But now I know what works perfectly: First I work out. Then I go to the library and draw. I have decided it's time to be an artist again, and I find I get too distracted trying to work in my home-studio. So I draw at the library for 2 to 4 hours. I no longer bring the laptop or books to read; this is me being serious about starting to draw again.

1:45 I pick up son from kindergarten and drive the long drive home.

2:30 we're home and do the whole snack and homework and play with friends thing and I also starting thinking about dinner.

5:30 or 6 Hubby comes home from work, we have dinner and enjoy the last rays of sunlight (work in the back yard, take a walk, whatever.)

7:30 to 8:30 somewhere in here we get son to bed.

8:30 to 10:30 cleaning up, hot baths, reading books, hanging out, getting ready for the next day, hubby and I may watch a show or a movie together (recently we watched all 7 seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer together. That provided for plenty evenings of entertainment.)

10:30 Bedtime. Except lying there together we usually end up having sex.
11:30 Bedtime. For real this time.

Ready to do it all again the next day.

Oh, Thursdays and Fridays I work as a receptionist in a nice low-stress family-run office and so those have become my days to be online, catch up with friends/blogs, write blog posts etc. Today is Thursday. Which is why I am writing this post. Maybe I'll write a couple while I'm at it.
Yay.

(And, btw, I am not looking forward to summer and having this nice routine I have established be shot to hell. But o-well.)

Food, Flesh and Spirit

(also posted at The Exponent.)

This is going to be a little sensitive to talk about, but it's been on my mind lately so here goes.

I used to have some serious issues with my body and with food. For most of my teens and 20s I was pinging back and forth between thin and thick, either starving or stuffed, but never satisfied. And my mind was utterly and completely preoccupied with it all; what I was eating, what I wasn't and how it translated on my hips and tummy. (It took a good chunk of brain space for all that obsession. Aside from the bad health, I miss all the other things I could have been putting my mind to.)

What has been interesting for me is to trace back and try to mine my history of eating disorders. Inevitably, the worst spikes in the disorder corresponded to my times of heaviest activity in the church. In high school when I was deeply involved in the seminary counsel. During my mission. At BYU while holding a calling as RS pres (and working at the temple and teaching at the MTC).

These disorders were spiritually distressing to me, I viewed them as a sin that kept me from God and made overcoming them a spiritual quest of worthiness. To no avail. That just made it worse.

This isn't a universal experience. Not all LDS women experience this. (And PLENTY of non-LDS women experience it.) However from many personal conversations and from the plethora of anecdotal evidence I get the sense that I was not an anomaly among Mormon women. In fact, I was in good company.

Happily, I think that depression and eating disorders (etc) among Mormon women are being recognized and addressed by the leadership much more than they were before.

But I sat in Sunday School last week and had an epiphany. The teacher was talking about service in the church and kept using the term "swallowed up". "Swallowed up in the work of the Lord". And how we should strive to achieve being "swallowed up" and what things keep us from being "swallowed up" and as everyone else around me gave faith promoting answers to the problem of why we aren't "swallowed up" the answer in my head was "Because humans are hardwired for SELF PRESERVATION."

My epiphany was this: when I was starving myself perhaps I was trying to disappear, to erase myself, to be swallowed up (and cease to exist).

And when I was stuffing myself perhaps it was my sense of self preservation refusing to let myself disappear, increasing my area of circumference as protection against being swallowed up.

Who knows? Maybe Freud would.

Me, I'm just happy to have that behind me thank you very much. It is nice to finally have a healthy navel, (and strong loins?) and to have my mind (relatively) free from a preoccupation with food and my flesh.

Just some of my thoughts on the subject at the moment.

Our House

A few random thoughts about the house we live in here in Tucson Az. In my mind these thoughts all seem important and related, we'll see if they actually are.

A few weeks ago I put a hole in the wall. With my foot. It was the accidental casualty of a momentary emotional outburst and it terrified me. I usually don't burst out emotionally. And I hate to leave marks. And the thing is, I have been feeling pretty good about our house lately.

When we first moved into our home about 3 years ago, new homeowners and all, I hated the place. It was my cage locking me into the life of a suburban housewife. I used to fantasize all the time about breaking all the windows and knocking holes in the walls. (Btw, I've ranted a bit about our house before.)

But I feel more at peace with our home now. Maybe it is just surrendering to the situation, maybe it is making the best of the situation, whatever it is... I no longer feel the same hostility to this house that I once did. Our back yard is heavenly; the Ash tree is an explosion of green that gives the nicest shade, hubby just put in a Chinese elm that promises all sorts of loveliness, at this very moment the star jasmine is in full bloom (intoxicating smell), a month ago the trumpet vines had an unreal flowery orange and pink and red party and the favors are still lingering. (Seriously. It's just beautiful. Ya'll are welcome to come visit anytime you like. But if you come in the spring, it's the bomb.) Plus we just painted a bit of red in the house that just makes my heart go pitter-pat.

I like our house.
Financially... well, we won't go into the finances of this. That's depressing. But for now, we can afford this home, and that counts for a lot.
And our family is happy here.
That counts for tons.

So, I'll patch up that little hole I put in the wall and maybe paint it too, add even more color to the home.

And anytime you want to come for a visit, feel free. :)

openly apostate? (revisited)

(hey folks, this is the version I wrote up for The Exponent. feel free to comment here or there. And thanks for your help.)

Just shy of a year ago I stopped attending church. I no longer believed what the church taught and had gotten to the point where sitting through three hours of it was both numbing and excruciating. But I think it's time to start attending again. Not because my beliefs have changed, but because Sunday has become such a fragmented disjointed day for our family. Something has got to change and I have decided that I will be that something. So a couple Sundays a month I will attend with my husband and child. I will bring books to read and my journal to write in (a friend suggested an iPod, but that's too obvious for my taste) to help get me through talks and lessons that would otherwise send me over the edge. Also, I think that perhaps I have had enough time and distance that there will not be the same painful cognitive dissonance that I used to experience; maybe I'm in a place now where I can be more generous about the things I disagree with and more open to catching the gems that do resonate. We shall see.

But my question to you has to do with my desire to be honest and open about who I am. Part of the discomfort from before had to do with the double life, the need to hide so much of my thoughts and experience. I'm done with that. But when I think about how that will actually LOOK, me being more open, I have a hard time imagining the line between honesty and disrespect. I don't want to cross that line, I dislike making people feel uncomfortable.

Here's me: I'm pretty agnostic with existential leanings, view the scriptures as man-made metaphors, don't see much difference between the LDS church and other churches out there (i.e. no one true church with exclusive priesthood authority led by a prophet of God etc.). I don't believe in necessary ordinances, don't wear garments, don't live the word of wisdom, etc. etc. etc.
Basically, I am rubbed the wrong way by most of what the church says (though I do believe in food storage).

So... I will just sit in the back and keep my mouth shut and read my book? (Unless talking about food storage?)
Those of you in my position, how do you walk that line?
And those of you who are believers, what are your thoughts about the participation of someone who just doesn't believe in the church?

openly disbelieving church goer?

I have been thinking lately that I should start attending church again with my husband.

I really do not want to go back to church.

But Sundays have become such an uncomfortable awkward day, so fractured, the pull between hubby attending and me and son staying at home...

Hubby was supportive when I stopped going. But I wasn't sure what to do next. Was this just a temporary break? Would I find a new church home?
Well I never felt comfortable finding a new church home.
So what now?

If I go back, it will be to support my husband, support our family.
If I go back, I want to be open about who I am.
But who really wants that:
I don't wear garments, I don't keep the word of wisdom, I don't believe anything in any of the manuals, my view of the scriptures and God and life is wildly different from the sanctioned one taught over the pulpit. I think the church hierarchy and the lineage of priesthood authority and the necessary ordinances for salvation (etc etc) are a lot of bullshit. Oh yeah, and I swear too.

So if I go back... it will be to sit and grind my teeth for three hours. (Like I was doing before.)
Or maybe it won't be. Who knows? Maybe it will be different this time.

I plan on writing a little about this over at the exponent, the question of attending church even if you don't believe and don't live the gospel "according to Salt lake" and how one should do that (if one so chooses to do that). If you have any thoughts or ideas or suggestions, feel free to share.
God knows I could use them.
(This is horribly written but I'm going to publish anyways. hope it's not too hard to read.)

Infidelity Monogamy Humanity (and books)

"...the fact that people continue to have affairs and divorces may demonstrate that simple monogamy is not adequate to deal with the complex psychology of human beings."

That quote is from the Toscano's Strangers in Paradox; from the conclusion of the chapter on polygamy and sex roles. It is, I thought, an intriguing idea.

So just for kicks, I am reading Against Love, Laura Kipnis' polemic against the institutionalized concept of monogamic bliss. And after that, I am going to read Not Just friends, by Shirley P. Glass; a guide to avoiding and recovering from dalliances outside of the institution of marriage.

Then I think I will rent a few seasons of Big Love and look into the local suburban swing scene. Purely for educational purposes, mind you.
(Ahem. I AM joking about the swinging. You know that, right?)

Meanwhile I will give DH lots of tender loving foot rubs, because he keeps looking at the books on my nightstand and rolling his eyes.

the crutch and the confidence

Something that happened when I moved out of participation in the church. I lost my confidence. Of course, I was no longer getting the validation and sense of responsibility that comes from callings/teaching/etc... and for a introvert like myself who does not naturally seek out service/leadership/human contact opportunities that has noticeably reduced my sphere of influence in the world. But I noticed something else as well. I had thought I was just going explore and expand my belief system, but instead I found my belief system merely disintegrating and when that happened, I lost grace. I lost the shield that had previously softened my failings. I don't mean this in a salvation way, a "repent or your sufferings will be sore" getting-to-heaven way. I mean this in a day to day, suddenly feeling much more overwhelmed by my errors and my insignificance. By the utter inconsequence of being a human animal.

I just finished Joseph Campbell's The Power of Myth. Campbell talks quite a bit about the importance of our spiritual Myths and Rituals in giving the individual a sense of place, purpose, connection to something greater. And he's pretty clear that the literalness of these myths isn't the point, it's their ability to give humans some sense of meaning in an otherwise meaningless world. A sense of confidence.
A crutch.

I've been trying to write this post now for several weeks, and I am still no closer to having some sort of nice wrap-it-up epiphany about finding meaning, having confidence, metaphorical belief systems, etc... So I though it was about time I just hit the publish button anyways and see what your thoughts on the subject are.

producing, creating, and parenting

(posted at the exponent)


I've had the most interesting time lately make art with my son. It started at his insistence and I was merely humoring him. But as we went along, drawing and painting on the same sheet of paper, I got really really into it. He was making these complex structures (he calls them forts) and I found myself completely absorbed in working around his images.

Here's the thing, I've been slugging through a bit of an artist's block not finding much inspiration in my own images and to suddenly be caught up in the innovative lines and shapes made by this five year old was intensely satisfying. Inspiring. And the thought I had was this: I'm a real selfish bitch sometimes. I can get all sorts of resentful about the enormous amount of time and energy demanded by caring for a child and sometimes blame him for my own inability to get any studio time. But when I am honest with myself I have to recognize that the labor intensive experience of being his mother has also been a tremendous source of creative impetus.
I need to give him his due.
And keep making these forts, those are really fun.

quiet...

This past month (or few) I have sat down multiple times to write posts about various and sundry thoughts or ideas and been unable to make them come together. Unable to say what I thought I was going to say. Not out loud anyways.

I'm finding renewed value in the privacy of my journal where I can hash things out raw and without concern for nuance (and without audience). I'm finding renewed value in getting back into the images of things. Really, words aren't my forte. I hit brick walls every time I try to put things into words. Don't get me wrong, I keep coming back to them. I LOVE words and reading and writing them. But I found that lately they are failing me. Or I'm failing them. Whichever.

And it also feels that I'm changing my mind, rapidly, about things I hadn't anticipated changing. It a private process, changing from what you were to, well, whatever it is that you will be next. There is an embarrassing element of inconsistency about it. It really dims the desire to make statements about it or to try to define it while "it" is still a mess of floating things not nailed down.

So, I'm finding a renewed value in just being quiet for a while (sort of a twist on 'if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all').

And wouldn't it be ironic if just by saying this it opens up the floodgates and I suddenly find all sorts of things to say?

not church going

I haven't visited any churches for a while. Not sure if I just ran out of steam or what but Sunday comes and goes and it doesn't hardly cross my mind to go. DH faithfully attends and fills his calling in the ward, I stay at home with our progeny. A few months ago I wrote about my fear of becoming committed to a church, but this is something different. Perhaps it is just complacency. laziness, or getting stuck in a rut. Maybe it is to avoid the awkwardness of a two-faith home. But it could be something else too. I was talking about it to a friend the other day and she said something along the lines of "It's like you are trying to prove to god that you still care about him even if you don't like your last church, so a new one will be proof." That really rang true. Maybe not proof to god, but proof to other people that I am serious about spirituality.

Maybe I'm losing that need to prove that I'm serious about spirituality.
(Maybe I'm not as serious about spirituality as I once was? I guess that's a possibility too).
I loved xjane's post about her particular brand of atheism; one that is a deeply spiritual form of anti-religion instead of a rigidly secular form of anti-divinity.

There is a multiplicity of way's to get in touch with my spirituality outside of a church if I so chose. As for a sense of community, there is likewise a multiplicity of ways to connect with the people around me that do not involve participating in a particular religion. (My friend, in that conversation we were having rattled off about ten suggestions off the top of her head).

Just some of my rambling thoughts that I needed to get out. That's all.
(Meanwhile... I'm going to start volunteering with the local drawing studio.)