Category Archives: LDS

if there be…


bright, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Question with boldness even the existence of a God; because, if there be one, he must more approve of the homage of reason, than that of blind-folded fear.
~Thomas Jefferson

I’m not going into this event with any fear about eternal consequences. I don’t feel any fear about divine reprisal. And I certainly don’t fear the disapproval of 15 aged men.

My fear is simply that I will find it difficult to speak my truth. I’ve been socialized to bow to authority, especially when that authority is cloaked in the trappings of the LDS priesthood. Every time I sat on the opposite side of the desk from one of these leaders in an interview, I ‘performed’ appropriately. I have not, as of yet, been face-to-face with an LDS church leader and discussed how I really view the world and my place in it.

I suspect that my opportunities to speak in tonite’s events will be limited. After all, it’s John’s court and not mine. But when I do speak, I am hoping to do so from my soul and from my heart. I will be afraid, but if I’ve learned anything this past few years, it’s that fear is normal at times of stress and change. And I will not let fear stop me from living my life authentically.

I find that the ocean has taught me much about facing fear–everytime our canoe dives into the belly of a wave I feel it. It’s exhilarating to live through uncertainty and to come out the other side even stronger for it.

“I gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which I must stop and look fear in the face…I say to myself, I’ve lived through this and can take the next thing that comes along…We must do things we think we cannot do.”
~Eleanor Roosevelt

Some other posts about facing fear:
–Casting Faith
–When I was Found Naked
–After dark
–Inside-Out
–What has to be Done

my thoughts on open-ness


orange rose, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

This morning I found several new bright yellow roses had opened in my garden. It was my intention to share them with you via a few pictures, but when I turned on my camera I learned that my battery pack was dead. Oops! So here’s a photo of an orange rose from a few weeks ago for you to enjoy.

Today I’m thinking about open-ness. It’s a topic that I’ve discussed fairly often on my blog. For example, one of my primary aims in blogging was to discuss my disability in an open and honest way. There’s a strong taboo in our culture about addressing physical differences, and it seemed that a blog was a great way to initiate the discourse.

Of course there are risks to being open. When I talk about my experience as an amputee, I’m vulnerable to cyber-stalking by folks who have acrotomophilia (a sexual fetish for amputee women). So at some point I had to decide that the benefits of blogging about my disability outweigh the risks of attracting the wrong crowd of visitors to my blog.

Similarly, my discussions about my spiritual journey have often touched on the taboo. I’ve been open about my frustrations with the LDS church and my experiences as a marginal member. My attraction to Quakerism has also been an significant thread in this journey and it’s been important for me to share that with you, even though my Mormon readers might find it disconcerting. I know that some of my extended family members follow my blog and are saddened to hear that I’m not currently active in the LDS church. But the reality of that is that many of our family members have left activity–it’s not just me. And I appreciate open dialogue with family members from both extremes of the faith spectrum. I love hearing about how your spiritual experiences have impacted your life choices. Truly. Now I am not going to tell anyone how to live their lives, but I would encourage those who have something to say to me about the church or any other aspect of my life to feel free to initiate that dialog. I will listen to and respect your thoughts, even if my beliefs are different than yours.

In this process of navigating my journey it’s been my aim to be as sincere and honest as possible. I learned long ago that speaking my truth makes me vulnerable to hurt*, but it also helps me to live authentically. I am not one person in a church setting and another person at home. I am not different online than I am in person. I am not ashamed of anything I believe nor of any of my actions.

*and yes, it does pain me sometimes when anonymous folks leave rude comments. I am not made of steel (although approximately 1/4 of my body is a carbon-fiber composite that’s pretty rugged stuff).

precedent?

From what I can gather, John’s impending church council for apostasy would be either the first or second incidence of a church member receiving discipline for blogging. Right now I am pondering the possible significance of this. For those of you who are LDS, does it concern you that this could set a precedent for future ecclesiastical discipline against blogging? If so, how do you think this might affect online conversations, which up to now have been uncensored by church authorities?

pilgrimclassic: because of my weakness

Feeling the need to republish this “classic” piece due to recent happenings. Perhaps my true sadness is that this church continues to provoke such strong feelings of frustration and disappointment, just when I think I’ve made “peace” with it. I want to say some more and to really vent, but I’ll hold off. It’s just not even worth wasting my time on, methinks.

The acknowledgment of our weakness
is the first step in repairing our loss.
~Thomas Kempis

While I was at the Sunstone Symposium in August, sitting in a session about women and the Mormon church, I had to fight the urge to flee the room.

In sitting there I realized that the rationales, the angst, and the pain of gender inequity–those were the things that I’d been so relieved to leave behind when I stopped attending LDS church. Being confronted with them again was repulsive and pulled me back to that dark place where I’d been a few years ago: a sort of dark cave where I felt stranded. Where I couldn’t see how god could bless an institution that was so biased, so short-sighted. And at the same time afraid of the pain that would come to me and to my extended family should I choose to walk away.

As these thoughts ran through my mind I felt a pendulum of emotion shifting to and fro inside of me and I was on the verge of tears. And then I realized something about myself…I’m just not one of the “strong ones” who can continue on in the LDS church while being fully aware all of its flaws. My soul and my spirit just aren’t up for the task. I am too weak. Too fragile. I need a spiritual home where I am buoyed and supported and affirmed. The dissonance of being Mormon was literally ripping my spirit into pieces. I felt no hope there.

For me, the move to practicing as a Quaker is not just transferring my allegiance to a new religious institution. It’s about adopting a spiritual practice and community based on the yearnings of my heart and not based on my pedigree and my upbringing. It’s a choice for comfort and peace. It’s laying down the struggle of trying to fit into the LDS mold–the continued abrasiveness of being a square peg that can’t adapt to the expectations and orthodoxies of Mormonism. It’s about recognizing my own weakness and accepting it.

The Mormon founder, Joseph Smith, compared his spiritual journey to that of a rough stone rolling down a mountain. He saw each of his experiences as chipping away at himself, smoothing away his raw edges. Me, I’m not up for a similar trajectory, or perhaps my body has just had enough trauma. I’m seeking an angle of repose.

Let me quote from a favorite author who has walked a similar path:

Spirituality is solitary…At times, it is lonely, often informed by pain. On other occasions, it is the body submerged in a phosphorescent tide, every movement sparking a trail of illumination. Afterwards, we sit on the shore in moonlight. No candles are necessary. Spirituality exists when we are present, buoyed up by the waters of attention. We learn the courage of faith. It is peace that is earned. We can take solace in the heat of doubt knowing this is the pulse of poetry.
~Terry Tempest Williams, Leap (2000)

question authority

This weekend I scraped off the tattered bumper stickers from our car (Another Family for Peace, Live Simply so Others May Simply Live, and Just Say YES to Equal Marriage Rights) and put on three new ones. One of them, “Question Authority,” was John’s first choice. The others: a large peace symbol and “Consume Less, Share More” were more of my choosing.

However I had a musing this morning that affirms the significance of the “Question Authority” slogan for me. As I was writing a comment on John’s post about the temple ceremony portrayal on the HBO show “Big Love,” I had a strong flashback of something that happened many years ago but almost made me cry as I recalled it today.

I’m not someone who has a strong tie to talismans, but I do find that certain items bring back a lot of memories. For example, I can tell you when and where I’ve acquired every item of furniture, or books, or the plants in my garden…I love the stories of “things” (which is probably why I love my chosen profession so much).

Many years ago John gave me a simple pair of earrings that had small white flowers dangling from them. I will emphasize the small part (I’d say there were about 4-5mm in diameter). Now those of you who’ve read my New Era story know that part of my affinity for flowers and gardens comes from a particular moment with my Dad when he gave me encouragement after my amputation surgery. So these small earrings that John gave me I wore to my Dad’s funeral and then every time after that it was in some small way linking me to my Dad and to that special moment that we shared. I took to wearing these earrings to the temple, given that they matched my white clothing nicely and because they reminded me of how special my Dad was to me and they represented my carrying his memory with me in a symbolic way. It seems silly now as I write this, but it was important to me at that time–I’d grieved so deeply when he died.

So one day when I was stepping out of the dressing room at the temple and going to the area to wait for the next endowment session a female temple worker stopped me and told me that my earrings were inappropriate and I would have to remove them before I could pass into the ordinance areas of the temple. I questioned her lightly about why and explained that I’d worn them frequently in the temple before. “No dangly earrings are allowed,” she said firmly.

I went back to my locker and curled up and cried as I took off the earrings. I don’t know what has happened to them since then and I don’t remember ever wearing them again.

So many things in my life have happened that are beyond my control…the loss of my leg, the loss of loved ones, and a lifetime of related health problems. And for much of my life I submitted the dictums of LDS authority, surrendering much of the control of my life to the sometimes-arbitrary though often-institutionalized leadership of the church. Perhaps this is why I have some ‘control issues‘ now. There’s a headiness to being able to chart my own course and decide what I will wear and when, or what I will drink, or where I will spend my Sunday mornings.

And today I put on these earrings before I even knew I’d be writing this post. They are reminding me of flowers, family, and how much some things change and how much some things stay the same.

UPDATE: As I was teasing back the layers of this memory while I ate lunch on my back porch (love the new table!!), I remembered one more very salient detail: the temple experience happened during a time when John did not hold a temple recommend (because of his loss of belief) and I was going to the temple alone. The earrings were a tie from me to him to my father (a man whom he had loved and respected so much). Again, such a small thing, but it’s funny to remember how badly I was already wounded then and I was struggling to find comfort in the smallest of object and rituals. Of course I didn’t stop being LDS because some stranger didn’t like my earrings. But I was so fragile then and it couldn’t help but contribute to my feelings of sorrow, of loss, of doubt, and of weariness with a tradition that no longer gave me the strength for my journey.

Just doing it. Or not.

artisan mocha @ Keans
A huge question for people who no longer believe in the tenets of the LDS church is whether to keep the rules of the Word of Wisdom. The WoW, in a nutshell, states that members are forbidden to imbibe alcohol, coffee, or black tea. They also are not allowed to smoke or use recreational drugs.

Some non-believing members continue to live the WoW because they don’t see any need to partake of the forbidden substances. Some abstain because they don’t want others to see them with a Starbucks cup in hand and then judge them (yes, drinking coffee is a major sin if you’re LDS–it would keep you out of the temple and would probably get you released from your ‘calling‘).

Some non-believing members decide that it’s fine to “responsibly” indulge in coffee, tea or alcohol. Some even smoke sometimes or try a bit of pot or X. Believers may see this experimentation as further proof that the unbeliever is under the influence of Satan. They see the forbidden substances as a mechanism for Satan to gain control of their bodies (i.e. if you’re addicted to coffee you’re losing your self-control, or if you drink alcohol you are more likely to have cloudy judgment which will lead to greater sins).

Mormon scripture on how Satan works:

And behold, others [Satan] flattereth away, and telleth them there is no hell; and he saith unto them: I am no devil, for there is none—and thus he whispereth in their ears, until he grasps them with his awful chains, from whence there is no deliverance. Yea, they are grasped with death, and hell; and death, and hell, and the devil, and all that have been seized therewith must stand before the throne of God, and be judged according to their works, from whence they must go into the place prepared for them, even a lake of fire and brimstone, which is endless torment (2 Nephi 28:21-23).

So those who are no longer believers, but who desire the trust and respect of their LDS friends, are caught in a bind. Indulging in forbidden substances offers proof to their LDS friends that they are under Satan’s influence. The result is that it’s very difficult for the unbeliever to retain trusting relationships with believers. So that cup of coffee or that sip of wine or that beer at a football game–while seemingly benign and socially acceptable to almost all Americans…may permanently damage lifelong relationships for those who are or were members of the Mormon church.

steering my boat


outrigger, originally uploaded by chotda.

Awhile ago I told a friend that my dream life would include paddling on the ocean every morning. It’s part of that fantasy-dream life that includes that two-room cottage in a hippie beach city, that we’ll buy after I’ve sold a few bestseller books or hit paydirt in some other manner. I remember as I told my friend this, thinking of all the logistical hurdles that kept me from paddling: a boat, the skills, the time, etc.

So it really was cooler-than-cool when a new friend invited me along to go outrigger canoeing on Newport’s Back Bay a few months ago. And it was hardly any wonder that when she told me about her paddling team that I was eager to try it out. So fast forward a few months–I’ve joined the “novice” women’s team and I’m having a blast learning how to paddle.

The irony of this wasn’t entirely evident until attended my first novice practice. Because we’re just learning the ropes, us newbies are practicing on Sunday mornings and not with the regular team yet. We push off from the beach at about 9 and return around noon. It’s three hours of various drills, sprints, and pointed advice on technique. We switch positions in the boat because each seat has different responsibilities. And most of all, we’re building up our endurance because the races are miles long and we’ve barely just gotten the feel of paddling through the waves (most of our practices are still held in the harbor as we toodle around Lido or Balboa islands).

What didn’t dawn on my until the first practice, was that the beach where we launch…it’s just across the street from the LDS Chapel where I first met John, where we held our wedding reception, where our son was blessed, where I taught early-morning seminary, where I worshiped for most of my adult life. And as I turn right to the beach, all those SUVs turning left are my LDS friends who are pulling into their Sunday meetings.

This really gave me pause on the first morning of practice. I reflected on how much I’ve changed in the past five years, how when I was even a lukewarm Mormon I never would have considered joining a sport team with practices on a Sunday morning, because of injunctions about keeping the Sabbath holy and because of my obligations to my ward.

This week my coach announced that she was teaching me how to steer the boat. The steerer sits in the back of the boat and is basically in charge of keeping the other team members on track–most literally because the steerer sets the course for the entire boat because they are the boat’s rudder. Using special strokes to keep the craft going in the appropriate direction, the steerer also calls the ‘start’ of the paddling and watches to make sure the other paddlers are in sync. My coach, during the time I was training gave me tips on how to keep a team together, how to help the boat move successfully toward a destination. I was amazed by the trust my teammates had in me, because the canoes are precarious and the ocean current is strong. A slight miscalculation on my part would result in all of us landing in frigid water, which was especially undesirable given the chilly winter temps on Sunday (and we all saw another team with a seasoned steersman tip a boatload into the bay last week, so we were well aware of the risks).

So we zig-zgged around the channel a bit until I figured out how not to ‘overshoot’ with my steering strokes. My boatmates were calm and never expressed concern about my efforts. As we pulled into shore and finished cleaning the canoe, my coach told the other team members (who were in other boats) of my success at steering and they congratulated me on my efforts–a few even offering applause. It was a kind and rather unnecessarily embarrassing gesture, but I loved how it made me feel part of the team.

As I drove away from the beach area and passed the LDS chapel I thought a lot about the way I used to feel a part of the Mormon team. I felt a thrill every time I entered that building and felt its echoes of memories and special occasions. It will never cease being a holy place for me. But when I get out of the canoe and feel the bone-deep satisfaction of having paddled hard, having felt the thrill of being on the open ocean and the rhythm of the waves, of seeing dolphins playing in the surf, of having dry lips and chapped cheeks from hours facing into the sea wind…I can’t help but feel joy that I’m steering my own boat these days. I don’t have the surety of the ‘final destination’ that I used to when I spent my Sundays on the other side of the street, but I’m okay with that. The open water offers me more now. And I’m up for the challenge.

Picture above not mine, but is of the same kind of canoe that I paddle in with my team.

which has more clarity…

Warning: if you are one of the people who gets their knickers in a knot when I compare Mormonism to Quakerism, just skip this post, ok?

Last night I attended a Finance Committee Meeting for our Quaker congregation. There were many agenda items and among them was a discussion of the wording for a statement about the appropriate usage of funds by various committees within the meeting. For about 10 minutes we debated whether two particular sentences were worded with clarity. The crux of the discussion came down to whether using a semi-colon or starting a new sentence would make a particular section of the statement more clear.

In this room were 4 women and 2 men. At least 4 of those people had advanced degrees. Four of us were “mature” and two of us were young-ish. Everyone had the chance to express an opinion. Each expression was considered equally and the decision was made to use the period rather than a semi-colon. My feeling was that the statement was fine either way and was clear either way. I didn’t contribute much to the discussion.

As we moved on to the other agenda items, a large concern was how to make the Meeting’s financial situation more clear to all those who attend weekly meetings–especially so everyone could know how important each contribution was to the well-being of our group. It was decided to put some of the information in the monthly newsletter and to create a graphical representation of the Meeting’s various financial allocations to have in the area outside the Worship room, where we meet for refreshments each week following Silent Meeting.

IF you are familiar with the LDS church then you will know that there is no transparency about the usage of donated funds. And, to be a member in good standing you are required to donate ten percent of your income to the church. Yes, if you have a particular leadership calling you might know how local funds are allocated. But the church does not release any information about the usage of the funds sent to SLC nor does it disclose the value of any of its vast holdings and investments. And, as I have said before, there is great gender disparity about who gets to make any kind of financial decisions in LDS wards. Local leaders are not allowed to set their own policies about financial allocations–meaning that they can’t decide how much of their funds go to Salt Lake and how much of it remains locally-held. This all comes straight from church HQ.

So sure, it can be a bit tedious to sit in a meeting and debate the merits of specific punctuation–especially when it seems such a very small detail. But I found it quite charming, simply because of the very fact that such an item could be on an agenda and could be up for discussion by all of us, even myself.

Who am I to say?….

This quote is from an LDS church statement on homosexuality. The church leaders interviewed are equating the challenges of homosexuality with those of disability, explaining that just like someone with a life-altering disability has no hope of marriage, neither does someone with strong homosexual proclivities.

I don’t even know where to begin a discussion about how troubling I find this statement. Can any of you help me out here??

ELDER OAKS: There are differences, of course, but the contrast is
not unique. There are people with physical disabilities that prevent
them from having any hope — in some cases any actual hope and in
other cases any practical hope — of marriage. The circumstance of
being currently unable to marry, while tragic, is not unique.

It is sometimes said that God could not discriminate against
individuals in this circumstance. But life is full of physical
infirmities that some might see as discriminations — total paralysis
or serious mental impairment being two that are relevant to
marriage. If we believe in God and believe in His mercy and His
justice, it won’t do to say that these are discriminations because
God wouldn’t discriminate. We are in no condition to judge what
discrimination is. We rest on our faith in God and our utmost
assurance of His mercy and His love for all of His children.

ELDER WICKMAN: There’s really no question that there is an anguish
associated with the inability to marry in this life. We feel for
someone that has that anguish. I feel for somebody that has that
anguish. But it’s not limited to someone who has same-gender
attraction.

We live in a very self-absorbed age. I guess it’s naturally human to
think about my own problems as somehow greater than someone else’s.
I think when any one of us begins to think that way, it might be
well be to look beyond ourselves. Who am I to say that I am more
handicapped, or suffering more, than someone else?

I happen to have a handicapped daughter. She’s a beautiful girl.
She’ll be 27 next week. Her name is Courtney. Courtney will never
marry in this life, yet she looks wistfully upon those who do. She
will stand at the window of my office which overlooks the Salt Lake
Temple and look at the brides and their new husbands as they’re
having their pictures taken. She’s at once captivated by it and
saddened because Courtney understands that will not be her
experience here. Courtney didn’t ask for the circumstances into
which she was born in this life, any more than somebody with same-
gender attraction did. So there are lots of kinds of anguish people
can have, even associated with just this matter of marriage. What we
look forward to, and the great promise of the gospel, is that
whatever our inclinations are here, whatever our shortcomings are
here, whatever the hindrances to our enjoying a fullness of joy
here, we have the Lord’s assurance for every one of us that those in
due course will be removed. We just need to remain faithful.

Personal Relationships and Equality


rose at the H, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

For October at Quaker Meeting the topic for the queries was “personal relationships.” Some of the questions that were offered as a catalyst for meditation:

For individuals:

Do I make my home a place of friendliness, joy, and peace, where residents and visitors feel God’s presence?

Are my sexual practices consistent with my spiritual beliefs and free of manipulation and exploitation?

What barriers keep me from responding openly and lovingly to each person?

For the Meeting community:

Do we open our thoughts, beliefs, and deep understandings to our children and others who share our lives and our hospitality?

Do we provide our children and young adults with a framework for active, ongoing participation in the Meeting?

With the polarization of the political factions in our country the past few weeks, I’ve found myself cynically responding to those who believe differently than I do. However a few times I was able to step away from my own dogmatism and have a conversation about the issues with another person who believed differently than me. I found that when I did this I could find a space of common ground and that it fostered tolerance and kindness between us, rather than a feeling of hostility. I am grateful for those bridge-building moments. They’ve buoyed me through the morass of negativity that’s coming from the media right now.

I had the interesting experience of clerking a Quaker committee meeting on Sunday, where we learned about and debated the merits of the various California ballot Propositions. By happenstance the attendees of the meeting were all men who were about 20 years older than me. We had a vigorous and enjoyable discussion. I felt that everyone’s opinions were valued even if we completely disagreed on many of the measures. What the attendees of that meeting probably didn’t realize, was that I was totally reeling with the experience–because in a Mormon context I would never have had the opportunity or the responsibility to conduct a meeting of older men. Nor would I have asserted my opinion as one of equal weight as those of men (because all LDS men who are over the age of 12 hold the priesthood and are therefore given the role of mouthpiece for God–I’m simplifying it a bit, but my teenage son could say prayers and administer rituals that no Mormon woman ever could, at any age).

When I consider the last query above about how the Meeting offers opportunities for everyone to participate…and I think about my having led a church meeting in a manner that so clearly emphasized the equality of gender and age, I feel happy that I worship with Friends. Because equality is important to me.