My pacesetter, Moroni

A few weeks ago, I wrote an incredibly negative, selfish, pessimistic and judgmental post about how I needed a pacesetter who could live a life of faithful service within the church while still dealing with homosexuality and loneliness. In that post, I selectively ignored the men that I know who are currently either celibate or in devoted mixed-orientation marriages so that I could focus on those who chose different paths as a means of justifying the possibility that I someday will choose to leave the church, which isn't something I want.

Anyway, so I'm being whiny and emo and honestly, just pining for attention (isn't that what blogging is about?) and that night, I read something that slaps me in the face as hard as a book ever has.

I was reading in Mormon chapter 8. In this chapter, Moroni is closing the record of his father, Mormon, who was killed in battle along with almost every other Nephite during a war with the Lamanites. He is orphaned as bitterly and poignantly as anyone has ever been orphaned, left to walk the earth alone for the rest of his life, constantly looking over his shoulder to avoid the murderous Lamanites that would see him dead along with the rest of his countrymen.

As I was reading, the distinct impression came upon me that he was that pacesetter I said I needed.

I shooed the thought away, saying that Moroni didn't have a choice. For him, it was a matter of life or death, while for me, I could live a long, full life whether or not I chose to live according to the tenets of the gospel.

But then I thought:  Was it really a matter of life or death for him?

This is all speculation and I can't back it up with scripture, but I'd bet that if Moroni approached the Lamanite camps with a white flag over his head, ready to surrender his person and the gold plates in exchange for some human company, the Lamanites would let him live among them, at least as a slave or a peasant.

The human brain literally cannot survive in solitude without rewiring itself. Men who spend their lives in solitary confinement start going mad just a few days into their sentences. Heck, I remember I took a road trip alone a few years ago that took me about four days and even though I was talking to people at every gas stop and food run, I still felt like I was going crazy sitting in my car alone for that long.

I'm sure Moroni had the thought at least once when he felt the loneliness come on that he could perhaps live among the Lamanites.

But instead, he chose a life of solitude and probable insanity because he knew that magnifying his calling and keeping himself clean of that society's moral failures was vital to the Lord's plan. He understood that and voluntarily took upon himself that awful burden of loneliness for the rest of his life.

Unlike Moroni, I have friends and family who love me. I also have the potential, if not the guarantee, that I can perhaps marry and procreate in this life, all within the bounds of the Lord's plan for me. But even if that doesn't happen, I'm not the first Mormon to live alone in order to keep the commandments.
_______________________

PS: I don't want to mislead. I have absolutely nothing against people who elect to leave either part or all of the church in favor of a relationship or lifestyle that they find fulfilling. I don't think they're vile sinners, or even that they're misinformed. They're pursuing the course of life that brings them the most joy, which is what we all try to do, eh?

I needed to feel empowered, so I listened to techno for 20 minutes

I have been doing so well lately. Better than in such a long time. I've been avoiding pornography, thanks in large part to the prayers that I know people are offering for me and I've been able to keep my thoughts pretty free and clear of even the desire to look at porn or check out other guys and stuff.  It's such a good feeling.

But today, I just woke up feeling weak. I don't know how else to describe it, I just was so tired. I mean, I was literally tired, but over and above that, I just felt spent up. It wasn't a hopeless exhaustion or one that made me want to give up and give in, but it wasn't a pleasant feeling.

A few years ago, when I was really in the thick of my pornography addiction and before I'd really started to ask for help and let people in on my life, I had these intense, debilitating feelings of worthlessness and depression. I started, then stopped, then started taking anti-depressants and seeing a therapist and when nothing really seemed to help with the depression, this idea came to me that my feelings were a necessary consequence of my poor decisions. I was carrying the guilt and shame with me everywhere and the only way to overcome it was to overcome my addictions.

For the last several years, my happiness and contentment was contingent on one thing: becoming worthy again. I assumed that as soon as I regained my worthiness, everything would become good again. I'd be happy, life would be easier and things would get better.

This morning, I had to face a reality where I'm not happy, even though I'm not making mistakes. To be sure, I'm very proud of myself for overcoming some of my demons insofar as I have and I also know that I'm much more at peace with myself now than I have been in a long time, but I can't say I'm appreciably happier. I don't want to give up, but I'm a little disappointed nonetheless.

A few months ago, my roommate introduced me to a piece of music. I was skeptical, because his taste tends to lean towards techno/dance/dubstep, while I tend to prefer music that's good (just kidding), but one song he showed me somehow got to me. It's called "Language," by Porter Robinson. The first time I heard it, its lyric-free melodies spoke something to me about my amazing ability to be more. Since there were no lyrics to get distracted by, I felt like I was listening to pure inspiration and the music spoke a deeply personal message to me, one that other people don't understand when they hear the song.

Today, that song came across my shuffle again and I looped it for about 20 minutes. I felt those old feelings come back. I saw my empowerment return. I saw those worries I'd woken up with in a new light. They still existed, but they were overshadowed by this ideal vision of myself, "a stoic badass whose emotions are mostly comprised of rock music and not being afraid of things." I saw this guy who still had feelings, but also had this uncanny ability to rise above them and refuse to let them define him. I still feel kinda sad, but I also feel bigger than the loneliness. Plus, it gave me a chance to evaluate my priorities and what's important to me, like my education, going to the temple when I get home, and serving a mission before the end of the year, all of which are much bigger than me.

Porter knows I'm worth more than the right now in which I find myself.

Robert Frost

My favorite poet of all time is Robert Frost. Since I have a captive audience, I'm going to post a few of his poems with my 2nd-grade quality analyses of them. Plus, I'm going to whore myself out for comments. Keep reading...

The Pasture

I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;

I'll only stop to rake the leaves away

(and wait to watch the water clear I may):

I shant be gone long. --You come too.

I'm going out to fetch the little calf

That's standing by the mother. It's so young,

It totters when she licks it with her tongue.

I shant be gone long. --You come too.

The Pasture is possibly my favorite poem in the English language. It's touching and beautiful in its simplicity; a farmer inviting his wife or child or friend to accompany him on a short errand, one that could easily be accomplished alone, but one that's made richer with good company.  I look forward to the day when that spouse or child or good friend can drive with me to the gas station or drug store, just for the sake of company. 

Choose Something Like a Star

O Star (the fairest one in sight),

We grant your loftiness the right

To some obscurity of cloud --

It will  not do to say of night,

Since dark is what brings out your light.

Some mystery becomes the proud.

But to be wholly taciturn 

In your reserve is not allowed.

Say something to us we can learn

By heart and when alone repeat.

Say something! And it says "I burn."

But say with what degree of heat.

Talk Fahrenheit, talk Centigrade.

Use language we can comprehend.

Tell us what elements you blend.

It gives us strangely little aid,

But does tell something in the end.

And steadfast as Keats' Eremite,

Not stooping from its sphere,

It asks a little of us here.

It asks of us a certain height,

So when at times the mob is swayed 

To carry praise or blame to far,

We may choose something like a star

To stay our minds on and be staid.

I love this poem too. But I kinda wanna try something with it. It's a complicated poem; the first time I read it I was in a class, so I got to sit idly by while others analyzed it for me, which gave me an unfair advantage. I only got to hear one explanation of what it means, the "right" explanation, and I'd like to see what other messages people get out of it.  Drop me an e-mail or leave a comment and tell me what you think about this, my other favorite poem.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler long I stood

and looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim

Because it was grassy and wanted wear,

Though  as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I marked the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,

I took the one less travelled by

And that has made all the difference.

Self-explanatory, but with one twist that I'd never thought of until I talked about this poem with a friend awhile ago. He said that the part in the last stanza, "I shall be telling this with a sigh..." shows that even when he reaches the end of the path, the speaker will still be unsure about whether or not his choice was the right one. I wonder if that's how it will be for all of us: Do we really know we made all the right choices in life because they led us to here? Or are we just seeking the equilibrium that comes with "knowing" that everything happened for a reason? I kind of think that I'll always have that what-if feeling giving me pause to contemplate if I really did make all the right choices.  

Good ol' poetry. I like you, I think I'll keep you around for awhile.

A few completely random thoughts before bed

This is unconventional for me. Here are a few random thoughts I have knocking about my head right now.

As of right now, I have had as many page views as my old apartment's gate code when I lived in Texas.

A reader e-mailed me with a salutation that read, "Dear Batman," because I'm anonymous and he didn't know how else to phrase it. So I closed my reply with, "Regards, Batman," and that felt so cool.

I'm damn terrified of tomorrow. I'm tearing into my car's rear axle to try and fix it and I'm really worried I'm gonna find more damage than I thought or muck it up worse. Prayers please.

Today, I deliberately slept through campus devotional and my last two classes. I felt guilty about it, but then again, I'm young. Why not be a little reckless occasionally? [Words I'll regret when I'm penniless and unemployed because no one will hire someone with that kind of attitude.]

My friend is selling all of his belongings and buying a van to travel from Vancouver to Panama in. That's 4800 miles, or more than 300,000 inches, if you'd rather view it like that. I'm equal parts jealous and terrified I'll never see him again.

I'm going to make it a goal to camp at least once monthly for the next year or until I serve a mission.  Camping, even if it's car camping, is a great experience.

I need a new cell phone. Mine keeps falling apart in my hands whenever I take it out of my pocket. It's kind of awkward holding a speaker to your ear with one hand and a microphone to your mouth with another, especially if you need to dial a number while on a call.

I might buy my cousin's 1966 Volvo Amazon hot rod.  How do you feel about that? I feel good.

Strange new sensation- I want kids?!?

I love kids. I have a bajillion nieces and nephews, each of which is unique and has something that I love about them. I've been a manny for my sister and for a few other people's kids and it's a job I both like and am good at.  I like kids of all ages, from my newborn baby niece to the teenage punk across the way who sometimes helps me with my car.

In spite of that, kids have never really been a part of my plan. I always figured I'd have kids someday, but honestly, I never really wanted them. It kind of seemed like an obligation more than a desire (marry, procreate, die).

But lately, I find myself dreaming of my kids and how awesome they'll be. It happens at random times. Yesterday, I was at McDonald's with my friends after FHE and there was a mom getting an ice cream sundae to share with her maybe-two-year-old son; looking at them made me want a kid.

Then, a few days ago, I was out camping and all I could think of was my own dad and how when I went home for my vacation, I wanted to spend a weekend camping with him, which then led to the thought that I want to take my kids camping as often as possible.

And my good friend announced to me awhile ago that she and her husband were taking the leap and were going to start trying to have kids and it made me so happy. I'm so excited to see that happen for them and it made me want that to happen in my life too.

I just find myself dreaming about kids a lot now. It's a weird development for me, but I'm definitely glad it's there. I've always been worried that I'd view kids as an obligation and be somewhat bitter about it, but now I have a bit more hope that I'm gonna be a good dad.

However, there's still that niggling issue of being uninterested in creating one using the biological process. I guess I'll have to give myself time to come around to the idea of doin' it to make a baby.

EDIT, two hours later: Just found out my sister's preggo! They were tryin' for a boy and I've got a good feeling!

Do you think Neil Patrick Harris gets tired of the attention?

It's no secret to those who know me that I have a "man"-crush on Neil Patrick Harris.  He's hilarious, he's well-dressed, he seems down-to-earth and he's pretty good looking. I feel like he befriends everyone he meets, which is saying something coming from me because I usually think speculating on what celebrities are like in real life is a waste of time since they get paid to act a certain way.

In any case, NPH was on The Colbert Report the other night and Stephen Colbert was saying, in his mock-Republican attitude, that NPH threatens him because he is a happy, likable gay man and his happiness doesn't threaten Colbert's happiness.  The obvious satirical commentary is that gay people aren't threatening and the stereotypical Republican point of view is silly.

It was a funny sketch, but I had something on my mind as I was watching. NPH has been publicly out for a few years now and his public demeanor changed very little from the time no one knew he was gay to the time everyone did.  And yet, every interview or video I've ever seen of him plays up his gayness.  For years, he was identified by his sense of humor, his showmanship and his comedic timing and now, it seems people only focus on his homosexuality.

To be sure, lots of that intrigue is tied to his happy domestic life with his partner and their twin babies, which I think is a happy thing to focus on, but still, I wonder if he ever gets tired of gawkers saying, "Neil, I like you and you are gay; therefore I am open-minded and tolerant."

It reminds me of something the black kid I knew in high school said (yes, that's right. Not "a" black kid or "one of many" black kids. "The" black kid). He said that he felt like a rockstar, because everyone wanted to be friends with him and everyone knew his name and voted for him whenever he did anything and then he transferred to another high school with more diversity.  He realized after transferring that we were being incredibly racist at my high school. It wasn't negative racism, but nonetheless, we apparently treated him differently due to his race. We wanted to prove we weren't racist, so we sought out the only black person we knew and fellowshipped the hell out of him.

In this wise, gay is the new black. Everyone says things like, "I've got a gay friend back home," just so they sound a little more open-minded, like they tolerate the presence of homosexuality.  And I'm like, why does it matter? Would you be friends with this guy if he wasn't gay?

I wonder if NPH gets annoyed with answering those questions about what it's like being in a committed relationship and having two (frankly gorgeous) kids with your partner. If it seemed like the interviewers were genuinely interested in his personal life, then maybe he'd be okay with it. But if it seems like they're just playing up the gay to get ratings, then I'd think it'd get pretty old pretty quick.

I guess my point is that being gay doesn't have to define a person. There are those for whom it does, but for me and lots of the other gays I know, we're normal people who happen to be gay.  It'd be a hard line to toe, because if I was out, I'd want people to know how normal I was, so I'd be pretty loudmouthed about it, which ironically would make me stand out more to those who saw me.

Just one more in a nearly endless list of things that make me scared to come out.

Seeking inspiration and guidance

These last few weeks, I've been practicing praying about almost every decision. I haven't taken it as far as praying about which breakfast flakes to buy or which tie would go better with my pink shirt (for all the "G" in my "MP," I cannot for the life of me coordinate colors), but I'm still seeking guidance a whole lot more than I used to.

This last week, I've had a couple pretty significant decisions looming over my head. Both had potential for semi-catastrophic financial loss and some emotional distress. I had already made one decision, which opened the possibility for another. I had prayed about the first and felt good about the choice I'd made, even though it made me kind of sad.  Anyway, I was praying about decision two and initially felt incredibly apprehensive. I figured that was my answer and just about moved on, but I ruminated for just another minute and that apprehension started to subside, replaced with some confidence.

That kinda worried me. The apprehension was sudden and fleeting and it was replaced with confidence, but I couldn't really tell which feeling was the one I should heed. They say that your first impressions are usually the most correct, but the second impressions were more powerful and long lasting.

Anyway, I went about my day with that question in the back of my mind. I asked close friends and family to pray that I'd be able to understand which was the right decision.  I went to campus devotional, which was about the need for righteous desire to be the foundation of any decision.  I began to ponder if this question I had was a righteous desire or not, and then it hit me: God doesn't care about this financial decision. I don't mean that he was apathetic about it or about me, but to him, it didn't matter which choice I made.    The devotional's message wasn't speaking to my financial concerns, it was speaking to my spiritual concerns.

God is more concerned with my righteous desires to aspire in his gospel and to serve him in his appointed way than he is with my righteous desire to make money and become more financially successful and independent.  While those goals I have to be richer and live more comfortably are righteous and worthy goals, I have enough work to do in more eternal senses; in that respect, my time would be better spent asking for advice in those areas.

I know that God cared about that financial decision I made yesterday and as the day went on, I felt more and more confident that I was making the right choice. But I also know that by blinding myself with things that don't really matter, I almost missed something that did. I'm going to continue praying for advice over more trivial matters, but I also am resolving to spend as much time praying for advice over eternal principles.

A Bit Discouraged Tonight

I'm sitting here with my roommate, stalking some of my old friends from Hawaii on Facebook. I had a great reunion with a few of them this last weekend and it had me jonesing for a little aloha in my life.

There was a cute guy I used to go to school with. He was really funny and pretty good-looking. I always had kind of a friend-crush on him; I wanted to get to know him better and become better friends with him, which likely would have resulted in me getting a huge crush on the guy, as it usually happens.  In any case, he popped into my head tonight as I was reminiscing, mostly because he came along with me and my friends on our most quintessential Hawaiian vacation adventure.

I looked him up on Facebook and was surprised to see a picture of him and another pretty good-looking guy on the very front page. There was a lot of body language in the picture to suggest that they might be a bit more than friends. I started stalking my old crush a little bit, trying to find out if life had changed for him since he left Hawaii. I secretly hoped it had and secretly hoped it hadn't.

(Every time I find out one of my Mormon friends is going to live the lifestyle, I get a little bummed out. I need a pacesetter, someone who can forge a path through it and live an abundantly awesome life in spite of choosing religious convictions over emotional ones. I need someone to set that example for me, because I'm not sure I can do it myself.)

Back to my friend, I'm still not sure if he's gay or not. I dunno, I've had straight friends who could be friendly-physical with their other straight friends without any of that homoerotic connotation; he could just be another one of those.  But still, it's got me wondering if he's gay and decided that the Church just wasn't worth it.

If that's the case, then I'm pretty disappointed. Not disappointed in him at all, because I'm kind of a moral relativist and I'd respect his agency, but in the situation. Here he is, a BYU graduate, a returned missionary, the squeakiest-clean guy I'd met in a long time, serving in a billion positions in the church and loving every second of it, and then deciding that it wasn't worth it.

Quite frankly, it's got me thinking, what chance do I have at making it if faithful people like him can't? I mean, even if I made it out on a mission, how long would I last after that? Five years?

I dunno, I guess that kind of thinking is what gets people discouraged and willing to give up.  Still, there it is.

(Of course, there's the very real possibility that he's straight and all of this is just a bunch of me basing my emotions on an erroneous conclusion. Wouldn't be the first time.)

Some Thoughts From Today's Devotional

Today, a dean of one of the academic departments gave the university devotional.  It was all about finding beauty around us, which beauty is a gift from God designed to make this life happier and easier.

He gave a a thought I thought I'd share real quick.

One thing he admonished the audience to do was find beauty in our surroundings, our studies, the personalities of others, in the Atonement and in ourselves. On the point of the Atonement, he commented that we have the opportunity to contemplate the Atonement at least once a week, in Sacrament meeting. He said that as a person who likes to eat, he finds greater symbolism in the Sacramental emblems. He said that it wasn't by accident that Jesus chose bread and wine, two of the staples of life, as the emblems of His body. Those foodstuffs were essential to life, and even though we as Mormons have replaced the wine with water, the analogy holds true. Bread and water are the two most basic foods that could sustain life, and it's no accident that they are a similitude of the sacrifice of our Savior. Elementally, we could not survive without Him.

He drew another most interesting parallel.  He talked about how bread is made up of complex structures called starches, which our body breaks down into simpler sugars. That process begins in our mouth, the moment our saliva begins deconstructing those starches.

He said that if we take a moment to savor and chew the Sacrament bread, instead of scarfing it down without hesitation, our saliva will begin to expose those simple sugars and the bread will literally become sweeter.

What a poignant observation!  It's one that I can't wait to experience for myself- wish me luck that I'll make it that long without screwing up!

Guest Post- The Crystal Baptisiversary

My second post went live over at Modern Mormon Men today! Go have a read

The Crystal Baptisiversary