A response to Kate Kelly's excommunication

Disclaimer: I have not chosen a side in this ideological debate... yet - perhaps I never will. I have so many emotional ties to both sides of the case of Kate Kelly's excommunication, and I feel like a whole person being asked to tear herself in half when I'm pressured to choose one. I haven't been able to. I can neither condemn the leaders of the LDS church and the institution as a whole, nor can I condemn Kate Kelly's Ordain Women and advocacy for women's issues.

When I think of the General Authorities, I think of men who are generally kind. You might think me naive, but I remember the first time my searching eyes met with Pres. Eyring's when I was 18 years old and choosing between attending a church-affiliated university over an ivy league offering me a full ride scholarship. I wanted so desperately to just make the right decision.

On a college-visit sponsored by local clergy,a small group of us had a private visit from Eyring, a present-day prophet of the Mormon faith. I could tell from our short communication that he sincerely cared for me (a complete stranger).

In a hardened world, before me stood a man with a soft heart (a difficult task for men growing up in a society that tells them it is desirable to be unfeeling and powerful). He was willing to give of his time and love to total strangers. I do not know any of the leaders of the Mormon faith personally beyond that encounter, but I cannot imagine them as men who willfully harm or choose to bring about suffering. Though some of their decisions may lead to such, I cannot believe their intention is ever to do so. And in spite of the popular claim that "the road to hell is paved with good intentions," I happen to believe that the road to heaven is not built much differently.

And so, in regards to Kate Kelly...I must testify that I know what it is like to be a woman that does not fit a particular stereotype in this day and age. I KNOW what it is like to wish that it were possible for you to shed your flesh in shame as a result of the regret some would bestow on us for having been born a woman. I know the opportunities that are missed, the pressures that are experiences, the harassment and embarrassment that are possible, and the precautions one must develop as a sixth sense.

I also know what it is like to be a woman in the gospel - a woman who does not fit a certain mold and whose ideas sometimes seem contrary to popular opinion...but not the gospel doctrine in and of itself...to be a woman who wishes to follow Christ and live his gospel as is interpreted by the LDS faith, while simultaneously living a life that is authentic and honorable to you.

Do I personally align myself with OW? No...not quite. I can't...because I actually don't feel equipped to make that decision yet.

However, it would not rock my world or shatter my religious foundation to admit that I do not feel at peace with the current practices we have surrounding the treatment of women in the LDS Church. It would not rock my world were it to be revealed that women too may hold the priesthood. I cannot truthfully state that I would be disappointed or devastated with such an outcome.

I found it hear-wrenching to learn of Kelly's excommunication yesterday (not necessarily because I have an incredibly strong conviction of whether or not her punishment was warranted, but because of the subsequent ideological warfare that ensued).

And I will not stand behind either condemnation. I cannot. I know better.

 So my heart goes out to you and to us...it goes out to my dear friend Ruby, with whom I mourned when I heard the news and whose grief has been so real she felt inclined to ask me to try to make sense of these feelings we are having because we cannot do it alone.

Maybe that's the mark we're missing?

The flip-side of counting your blessings

Yesterday's post prompted a great discussion with some friends. Before I continue, I would like to note that I believe that finding happiness is a lifelong pursuit, and an on-going battle for a lot of people. I commend the efforts of those who keep fighting and moving forward, in spite of the obstacles they stumble upon along the way. 

I am amazed by the courage and tenacity of loved ones afflicted by heartache, illness, and other tragedies and setbacks. I'm humbled by the efforts of those braving through emotional, physical and spiritual turmoil - and I am honored and inspired by those who have felt comfortable enough to share their stories with me. Thank you so much. 

On that note, today I'd like to critique another conventional (and mildly inappropriate) piece of advice that has been given me when I have been down: "count your blessings." 

DISCLAIMER: I am a firm believer in the power of optimism AND of gratitude. I know that both are wonderfully effective tools that can and will enhance the lives of those who apply it to their daily lives. Having said that, today, I wish to focus on the flip-side of the optimism coin - the one where we condescendingly minimize the real disappointments of real people with real emotions.

Dinner at Red Bones with Bex - one of the bravest women I know.

Scenario:

Someone you know is feeling down, and they've mustered up the courage to admit that they are struggling. Maybe they're feeling depressed about something going on at work or at home. It's possible that they're struggling with something that is either within or outside or their control. In any case, they decided to approach you.

I really can't number how many times the following has happened to me, especially within the last few months. I also can't emphasize enough that while I understand that the council given me came from a good place, it had the opposite of the intended effect. My objective this evening is to raise awareness, and hopefully prevent well-intentioned people from inflicting emotional self-multilation on already vulnerable people.

When confiding in some, I have been met with a dangerous catch phrase: "count your blessings." 

It is actually sound advice...after all, I really believe that that life is usually good. 

So, what's the problem here?

Great question.

Ruby, you taught me one of the greatest lesson I have ever learned about strength and forgiveness. Thank you for giving me numerous second-chances. 

I'm generally a happy person. I'm healthy. I enjoy a level of comfort that suits me. I have a reassuring belief in a God that loves and cares for my personal growth and happiness. I'm well traveled. I'm also fairly accomplished for someone my age. I love my Brazilian culture, and I live in one of my favorite cities in the world. 

In other words, yeah, I'm someone who ought to be sufficiently grateful - plenty of blessings to count. 

Here's the kicker...it is that EXACT knowledge that tears me apart sometimes. I know I ought to be happy. I recognize that I have accomplished more than many dream to reach in a lifetime, and I'm only 22 years old. I know how lucky/blessed I am.

I know.

And that knowledge actually works to make me feel more hopeless when I'm feeling down. Pointing out that I have a lot to be grateful for rips from me the right to feel sad, or dissatisfied with my life. I then desperately seek to push those thoughts away...to bury the hurt, the sadness, the heartbreak. I seek to push it out of my being because it shouldn't belong there.

And the more I try, the easier it is for panic to creep in, and the harder it seems to tighten its grip around me - threatening to choke the life out of my hope.

So please consider my thoughts below.

FIRST: Please acknowledge how difficult it might be for someone to come out and admit that there's something wrong, especially within the Mormon community. Most of us feel pressured to live the illusion that we must lead perfect, holy lives, or else be publicly shamed and condemned (myself included). Many go through great lengths to hide the icky, messy details of their suffering. 

So, if someone admits to having a weakness (this is by no means unique to those who are religious), recognize that they have shown a great deal of courage…and above all else, they trusted you to not be a total d-bag. 

SECOND: Help them alleviate the stress and pressure imposed on them by their own overworked consciences by validating their feelings. It never helps to belittle someone's pain by suggesting that their problems would all go away if they were grateful enough. 

THIRD: This is a hard one for people wired like me...people taught to see the world in terms of black and white - right and wrong. Try to TRUST that your loved ones are trying their best - even if you don't get it. Nobody likes to be babied. Nobody feels empowered when their moral sense and ability to reason are being called into question.

So trust, and have faith and hope that they are trying their best to be happy, whether or not they are doing it your way. This has been the hardest lesson for me to learn in my personal life, but it have helped me so much to stop judging people, and start loving them. 

Which brings me to...

FOURTH: Love them. Love is tricky. It means different things to different people. It comes in many shapes and sizes. Decide what it means for you, and then love the person who is struggling. Love them where they're at. Love them whether or not you understand their pain. Love them whether or not you agree with their actions. Love them even if you have no control over the outcome. Love them whether you feel they deserve it or not.

Just love them.

High school graduation with Clover and Neha - for me, these girls represent compassion personified.

I wish I had recognized these four principles when loved ones have looked to me for compassion and empathy in the past. I confess that I have not historically been the most understanding person. In fact, I have a pretty nasty track-record.

A few years ago, a good friend came to me with similar pains as the ones I'm experiencing today - with similar complaints and anguish of soul. I was unyielding and unkind at the time. I believed that "making the right decision" ought to be easy...because it was right, after all. I did not show my friend respect, trust or love, and I lost my best friend because of it. 

And the greatest tragedy is that I was convinced that encouraging my friend to "count blessings" and be push through the pain was the BEST POSSIBLE THING to do. I was blinded to the reality of the struggles that lay ahead. 

I beg you. Please. Don't make my same mistake. I've learned my lesson, but it's been at a great cost. 

***

I hope you'll add your thoughts to mine in the comments section below. 

I read every single comment and I appreciate you taking the time to read my thoughts. 

Feel free to email me if you'd like to share your story, or ask a question about something I wrote.

On "choosing" to be happy

Okay, I have a confession to make before I dive into today's post. I love reading blogs. Seriously, I can't get enough of them. I lose hours on end scanning my favorite blogs (I wish I were exaggerating).

For me, the best blogs trigger an examination of my core values. I had one of these experiences as I was reading through one of my favorites today: a blog about love.

Today's post is a response to an article I was reading about choosing happiness, "Love Story: Will there be magic?" I recommend reading it through, and assessing your own reactions, before continuing ahead with my post.

[Stop here and read their blog post] ;)

I'm willing to bet that most people have heard some version of the "choose to be happy" speech. If you're anything like me, you might even agree that it has something worthwhile to glean. It appeals to the "pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps" mentality among many of us. We want to believe we're in control of our happiness - because if not, then who is?

...And yet, whatever warm-fuzzies this idea gives me is usually quickly eclipsed by a stronger, more urgent feeling of hot indignation.

Stay with me for a bit here...

As I've been growing up (it's a process), I've believed that a secret to happiness is discipline -- especially over the ever-changing, sometimes explosive emotions that one experiences in a lifetime: anger, hurt, sadness, love. I learned to be skeptical of my inner voice because it can lie. It can trick me. So I chose to fear it, and sometimes shun it. I chose to "be happy" in spite of what I felt.

Don't get me wrong, I agree that happiness should not be predicated upon the "if" statements of life - it ought not depend on if I get into law school, if I can take back the hurt I caused someone I love, or if I can afford to live in a great apartment in Boston (preferably with a balcony and a view).

No - my happiness shouldn't depend on whether I always get my way. So, I believe in choosing happiness as long as it means that I am sincerely finding joy in the journey in spite of what challenges arise, or what patience is required to make my dreams come true.

BUT "choosing" to be happy feels incomplete to me.

It sounds overly simplistic, no? - and maybe even a little insulting. As a human being with real passions and dreams, I find this mentality difficult to relate with. I worry that I'm being attacked for wanting more, and believing that I deserve to fight for more...so we need to further refine this idea.

Allow me to illustrate.

I had a very difficult time speaking up for myself as I progressed into my major in college. I studied International Relations - a major popular among well-informed, middle-class and politically hotheaded Caucasian males. Oy. I felt very out of place.

As an immigrant and a female, I often worried that my peers expected me to stand down. I imagined that I should be happy enough that I had made it to college at all, especially in America. I felt that I should be grateful for my full-ride scholarship, and that showing gratitude meant that I should keep my head down. I was scared of being unconventional, of sounding misinformed, and of rocking the boat. At times, I feared that if I spoke up, I would seem ungrateful.

I was so wrong for thinking this way.

And I'm scared that in "choosing" to be happy, too many people make mistakes like this one. In believing that we ought to accept our circumstances passively, we put out the fire burning within us. We pass up opportunities for greatness. We waste away our potential.

So, here are my two cents...

Choosing to be happy is not enough.

I experience a knee-jerk twinge of disgust whenever I hear that I can "choose" to be happy because it feels like these voices are pressing me to settle for less, which is completely against my nature, my faith, and the God I believe in. It feels like I am being told that I should be less than what I am capable of.

As well-intentioned as it seems, I fear that those voices would have be embrace silent mediocrity and fall into submission to voices louder, and stronger than my own.

And mediocrity makes me cringe. It might be my greatest fear - to reach for less than what I am capable of achieving. To live less, laugh less, speak less, love less than I am able.

It's difficult to draw a line between finding joy in the journey and resigning myself to unfortunate circumstances.

I've made terrible mistakes as I've tried to strike that balance.

I could have spoken up more in college, in spite of my insecurities. I could have learned more by being willing to risk failure. I could have fought more and waited more for the things I wanted most - the things I loved. Instead, I shrunk back. I chose to accept my circumstances and succumb to them, and I regret it every day.

So here's my theory:

Instead of "choosing to be happy," I'd rather choose to be the master of my fate (See "Invictus" by William E Henley).

I believe in being happy about where you're headed. I believe in finding beauty in your best efforts, even when they are not enough...even when you fail. And you will fail, beautifully.

I believe in letting go of the things that we can't change...but fighting like hell for the things we want that are within our control.

There is NO way that I'm ever going to subscribe to the "this-is-good-enough" mentality. I never want to shrink back because of fear or pressure, though it's tempting and incredibly comfortable.

I believe there is glory in giving your dreams your all, even if giving it your all means you fail - and I have failed, time and time again - at a great cost to myself and those I love most...but I believe that failure can become a sacred experience that unites mankind with deity as we avidly seek to become better, and to learn from our mistakes, and press on igniting the fire burning within our souls.

So, yeah, I'll choose to be happy.

I'll choose to try to let go of the past wrongs I can never take back - those that still keep me up at night. I'll believe that there is grace and forgiveness, even for someone as mixed up as me.

But I will never be "fine" with being less than what I'm capable of being. I refuse to settle and accept the cards I've been dealt. I refuse to go down without a good fight. I refuse to give up on my passions, my loves, my dreams.

I am the captain of my soul.

The multifaceted nature of courage

Yesterday, I had a rare and unique opportunity to spend the afternoon with a great friend - someone I greatly admire. While I expected to meet with this friend for lunch, catch up, and then go about our days, I was astonished and flattered that my friend chose to take the rest of the work day off in order to spend time together.

For the better half of our afternoon, we discussed the meaning of courage.

In our conversation, we realized that courage has a duplicitous nature. We could both think of people in our lives who have shown indisputable courage, and yet, we found, over and over again, that courage can mean a variety of things to different people, and under different circumstances -- and as often is the case, all seem accurate.

For instance, in both of our families, our parents showed the courage to let go and have faith in the unknown when they chose to immigrate to this country years ago, leaving behind "the known" of their home countries and of their family and friends for promises of a better future.

On the other hand, my parents also showed an incredible amount of tenacious courage when they were very young and they decided to get married and convert to a new religion against the approval of their families and friends. We thought of several situations that fit the latter example as well.

So what does it mean to have courage, exactly?

My experience has taught me that the most powerful and desirable form of courage is the courage to choose. Choosing to let go of what you don't need, and to hang on to what you do need most. The most courageous people in my life weren't necessarily the most adventurous or fearless, they were the people who chose what they would and would not stand for.

It takes courage to endure through challenging times. When facing a crossroads, we show bravery and grit in order to take a stand for the things that really matter to us.

I often forget that it also takes equal determination to let go, or to turn back when we have been wrong. Letting go and stepping out of a situation that would otherwise create more harm than good in the long run takes courage and a great amount of faith.

I have made the sad mistake of assuming that letting go is synonymous with giving up. I'm ashamed to admit that for too long, I believed that only those who are afraid and weak let go or change the path of their journey. I have needed to amend my paradigm.

I strongly believe that it takes a special courage to have the audacity to fight for your happiness, which could mean letting go of something that's wrong for you. This especially takes courage when it pins us against social mores, like our parents who decided to leave behind the known of their homeland, for the unknown of immigrating to the United States.

When facing a crossroads, it takes courage to walk down either path - to continue forward with faith in the unknown or to change and show faith by turning back when you've been wrong.

In a recent Mormon Message video, I was reminded that when making decisions, God expects us to pray, trust, and be believing and then not give up, panic, or "jump ship" when something doesn't seem to be going right. This is the message I was accustomed to hearing. HOWEVER, it taught me something new as well. It taught me that sometimes, when faced with a fork in the road, the way to the "right road" requires that we go down a wrong path for a brief time in order to recognize, when we turn back, that the path we are going on is ABSOLUTELY the right one (Wrong Roads).

For everything we hang on to, we are must let go of something else. I used to believe that human being ought to strive for perfection in all things, and that life was one huge balancing act in which I was supposed to become great in all things: all relationships ought to be forever, and we should always endure to the end.

While that's certainly an ideal I catch myself stubbornly seeking to adhere to over and over again, I have found that it is unrealistic and self-destructive. Human beings can only choose what they will stand for; what they will choose to perfect; what mountains are worth climbing, or what battles are worth fighting.

We cannot be everything, succeed at everything -- and the journey to becoming someone, believing in something, and having courage, requires us to let go of many things that are good for the things that are great, and not worth living without.

We must fight for these things. We must show the courage to endure here.

And with wisdom and faith, we must search our souls to uncover what this means for each of us.


Comment below if you have anything to add.