How We View Ourselves

These days there's a lot of talk about body image.  Many of us are dissatisfied with the way we look when compared with the world's standards.  Even when shown that TV and magazine models are air brushed and digitally "corrected" in pursuit of perfect beauty, we tend to ignore reality and press to emulate this unrealistic standard of measurement.

Lately, too, I've noticed, not a few, folks in the church who are caught in a similar trap.  In fact even I, have been prey to an unhealthy dissatisfaction with what I might call my perception of my spiritual performance image.  When compared with a misshapen concept of what a successful Latter-day Saint might look like I begin to act in unhealthy ways to make myself appear to meet the standard.  I have practiced Spiritual Anorexia, others have fallen prey to Spiritual Bulimia and many other disorders that are just as dangerous and misbegotten as their physical forms.

In modern society we are trained from a very early age to make comparisons.  We are measured by comparison, graded by comparison, described by comparison and of course, judged by comparison and yes, rewarded by comparison.  God, of course, does not do this.  Caught in this mortal sphere, it is rather hard to grasp God's perfect nature in this regard.  Much of what we do in the LDS church is designed to limit comparison.  In the temple, for example, all wear white clothing, limiting the distinctions that come with our differences in status or circumstances.  All are equally invited to "Come Unto Christ" as the scripture beckons bond or free, male or female, rich or poor, black or white.

Still, there is much in our culture that subtly counters this.  Cultural behaviors that in no way make deliberate distinctions or at least have no malicious or divisive intent, but which still, because of our cultural training, discourage, depress, dishearten and even destroy.  Things like unthinkingly asking a newcomer where he served his mission (kind of hurts when you didn't.)  Or inviting brethren to sit in the Eagle's Nest at a Court of Honor, making no allowance for those, who likely, through no fault of their own, did not achieve the rank of Eagle.

This month for example, the Conference Issue of the Ensign Magazine, by implication, subtly sets some pretty lofty standards of appearance and performance, which if not observed with open eyes, might lead one to believe he is not measuring up.  Toward the end of the magazine are a number of brief biographies of newly called General Authorities.  These are wonderful, successful, Latter-day Saints whose lists of accomplishments are truly remarkable.  Doctorate Degrees abound.  Successful businesses and influential careers are the norm.  All have served diligently in many important capacities in the Kingdom and appear to have sound marriages and exemplary families.  The Church needs these accomplished individuals.  It requires their specialized skill sets and depends upon their deep spirituality.  I in no way wish to demean or diminish neither their goodness nor their worth to the Lord and His work on the earth.

But, if we as rank and file members look to them as the yard stick by which we measure our own worth, or place in the Kingdom; if we compare our positions and performance with theirs, we will likely fall into an unhealthy place that will render us less, rather than more, useful to our Father in Heaven.

Part of me wishes that beside each of those biographies were the biographies of regular members of the Church.  Not because I wish to demean the Church Leaders, but because I would like to elevate our recognition of the goodness of so very many who are right where we are.  Something like this:

Newly called as Nursery Leader in Himni, Utah 4th Ward is Sister Rosa Valero Cooper.  Sister Cooper was born to an impoverished family in southern Philippines.  At age 15 she was sold by her parents into sexual slavery and was taken to Olongago where she was subjected to prostitution near the Subic Bay US Navy Base.  There she met her future husband, a Latter-day Saint, in a brothel.  They fell in love, married and after some difficulty made their home back in Utah.  Rejected by her in-laws and eventually abandoned by her husband for another woman, Rosa has raised and educated her three children alone.  She has made a fine career for herself as a house cleaner, where she could set her own schedule and be at home when the children were not in school.  Being largely uneducated herself, Rosa impressed the value of education on her two sons and her daughter.  All have finished High School and are working their way through college.
Sister Cooper joined the church in 1983 as a result of the kind friendship of a handicapped neighbor.  Amid their loneliness and personal affliction these sweet Sisters had reached out to one another. She has served for 15 years as the Young Women's Camp Director.  Her testimony and deep simple faith have profoundly influenced the lives of dozens of young women in her Ward.  Rosie has also been Compassionate Service coordinator in the Relief Society and a councilor in the Ward Primary Presidency.
Sister Cooper's second son served a Mission to the Philippines where he was able to bring the gospel to his Grandparents.  His Grandfather now serves as the Branch President of the Cotobini Branch.  Rosa has consistently sent money home to her family greatly facilitating their prosperity and the education of her siblings.  Now she occupies her free time caring for a neighbor lady, her former Mother-in-law,  who suffers from MS.
"God has been so very good to me," says Sister Cooper.  "I don't deserve such wonderful blessings."

Would you not agree that Rosa Valero Cooper is a wonderful, successful, Latter-day Saint whose accomplishments and contributions are worthy of note?  Even emulation?  Of course!  Let us not assume that the General Authorities have not suffered severe affliction, neither that they have not had sore need of repentance and the application of the Atoning Blood of Christ in their lives.  Nor should we assume that every great Latter-day Saint had to overcome such horrendous circumstances as Rosa did.  Each of us has a story of ups and downs; opposition if you will.  And the reflection of our spiritual performance image ought to have nothing to do with the performance of anyone else.  Anyone else, that is besides Jesus, whose personal perfection, while wholly incomparable, enables us to rise above the lumps and bumps that make us each, far less than perfect.

I wish, at church, we spent less time painting a picture for each other of the perfect Mormon and more time painting a picture of the Perfect Christ.

Book Review - 7 Wonders That Will Change your Life by Glenn Beck and Keith Ablow, M.D.

First of all, I got turned off by Conservative Talk Radio quite some time ago.  Not necessarily because I disagreed with what was said.  Though there was some of that.  Mostly it was because of the divisive nature of their clamorous programs.  Beck was certainly not as bad as Limbaugh or Hannity, but all of them, in the end, were downers for me.  Chalk it up to weak character on my part if you must.  Perhaps I am an ostrich with my head in the sand, but I am far happier and far more productive if I stay away from all the hoopla.  Most of it doesn't lie within my circle of influence anyway; especially when considering where I live.

Considering that, I was reluctant to read this book.  I thought it too, would dishearten and depress me.  Oh, Contraire!  This turned out to be one of the most encouraging books I've read in a long long time.  Basically, it is the story of Beck's recovery from despair, confusion and alcoholism.  As such it is one of the more inspiring recovery stories I've read...and I've read a lot of them.

I especially enjoyed his treatment of synchronicity, "seeming coincidences actually turn out to have deep meaning and importance for...personal growth."  He called them bread crumbs and said, "Trust me:  if you just pick up the really obvious bread crumbs, you will find that you have more than enough to find your path.  It will transform your life.  God isn't trying to hide anything from you.  He is not being coy or playing game for His own amusement.  He's trying hard to show you the way."  Beck says,  "I decided to spend thirty days without dismissing any event in my life as coincidence.  Literally.  If the man at the gas pump next to mine asked me directions to a museum he was visiting, and I had recently read a magazine article about that very museum, I would go visit there.  If a woman dialed my cell phone and hung up once, then redialed and, upon hearing my voice, apologized to dialing the wrong number, I would say, "Well, may I ask who this is?"  Because maybe, just maybe, that person was supposed to enter my life in that seemingly random way.  If she hung up, so be it.  I wasn't going to dial back.  I didn't think I should have to chase bread crumbs, just pick up the ones that sort of sat still for me."

Glenn certainly made me anxious to watch for bread crumbs in my own life, which quite amazingly are more common, by far, than I expected.  Some of us might even call them tender mercies.  The key is to watch for them.

Now, I won't trouble you with any more details.  Let me just say that if you are seeking change and direction in your own life, this book is a great resource to stimulate the journey.  It most certainly has inspired and informed my own journey and I'm grateful for the great gift it was and is.

*****

Book Review - A Fatal Grace by Louise Penny

Followers of my blog will know that I am a huge fan of Louise Penny. They will also know that I've sort of reviewed this book before. This is my second time through, and I'm not through, I'll likely read it over and over. Superficially, the Chief Inspector Gamache books are about solving murders. Fundamentally, though, they are about ourselves and what goes on in our heads. As Inspector Beauvoir's grandfather once told him:

"You don't want to go into your head alone, mon petit. It's a very scary place."

I don't like to go into my own head alone for the same reason.  I think this is a primary reason for my journey back through these wonderful, soul searching books.  I feel a bit safer going into my head with Louise and her characters as my guides.

The principal theme of this volume seems to be about the junk we carry around from our childhood.  Scripts and interpretations that are skewed by misunderstanding, lies and even abuse.  It is about the crazy things we do to cope with that baggage, even murder.  In a quote regarding one of the victims we get this insight:

"Too much damage done.  We become our beliefs, and Crie believes something horrible about herself.  Has heard it all her life, and now it haunts her, in her own mother's voice.  It's the voice most of us hear in the quiet moments, whispering kindnesses or accusations.  Our mother.
'Or our father' said Gamache,..." 

As Gandhi said:

'Your beliefs become your thoughts
Your thoughts become your words
Your words become your actions
Your actions become your destiny.'

Louise Penny not only points out the problems we suffer as our common lot, but proposes real and credible solutions:

"'Let it go.  You have your own life.  Not Uncle Saul's, not your parents'.'  His face had grown very serious then, his eyes searching.  'You can't live in the past and you certainly can't undo it.  What happened to Uncle Saul has nothing to do with you.  Memories can kill, Yvette.  The past can reach right up and grab you and drag you to a place you shouldn't be......Bury your Dead.'"

But letting go, is not all that easy, it requires that we be willing to go to that most frightening place of all.

"Gamache was speaking so softly no one else could hear.  And he was speaking with open affection.  Beauvoir suddenly remembered the lesson he always hurried to forget.  Gamache was the best of them, the smartest and bravest and strongest because he was willing to go into his own head alone, and open all the doors there, and enter all the dark rooms.  And make friends with what he found..."

And having gone there, Gamache was unafraid to visit other people's heads as well, not so much critically, but empathetically.

"'...Mother...had to go all the way to India to find God and He was here all along.  She went to Kashmir and I went to the door.'
'Both long journeys,' said Gamache.  'And Kaye?'
'Kaye? I don't think she's made that journey and I think it scares her.  I think a lot of things scare Kaye.'

Gamache, or rather Louise is giving me courage to go to that scary place and yes, open all the doors.  I'm not sure about making friends yet, but I'm working on it.  Oh, the power of a truly great book!

*****

Grass Roots

I am not affiliated with any political party at present.  I feel like they're all leading us down the primrose path to destruction.  I have not been politically active for 30 years aside from regularly turning out to vote in the general elections.  I had been very active at one time resulting in a bad case of disillusionment.  I was disappointed in the system and also very disappointed in myself, who had become quite masterful at manipulating the system.  Discovering I was too foolish to have that much power I decided to bow out.

This week we heard a message from the First Presidency, read from the pulpit, encouraging us to be involved in the political process and to attend the Caucus of our choice.  As there is no independent caucus, I considered myself excused.  Then yesterday morning, I read the next article on my monthly journey through the Ensign magazine.  As is often the case, the article seemed pointed right at me.  It was called, of course, Follow The Prophet.


Normally, I go Home Teaching every Thursday night.  And had intended to do so this week.  Then I realized that doing so might hinder those I visit from attending the Caucus.  We had also been counseled by the First Presidency to cancel all meetings that might interfere with Caucus participation.  The dye was cast, I needed to follow the Prophet and leave my families free to attend, and I decided I'd better go as well.  Besides, I had often rationalized that I had not left the Republican Party, it had left me.  I still feel that way, but I realized that perhaps I was partially to blame for stepping aside and letting it go, to hell, without a fight.  So off to the meeting I went.

Early on in the meeting, which, by the way, was much better attended that they were in the old days, I learned that, due to my lack of affiliation, I could not vote or become a delegate.  I was okay with that.  I enjoyed the meeting.  The Precinct Chairman is a friend, very witty, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

The chairman called for the nomination of delegates and within moments the County Delegates, were nominated, voted upon and selected.  I wondered how anyone knew who to vote for.  They are all good folks.  Most of them are active in my Ward or my old Ward.  I know them to be good people.  Is that how we choose our delegates?  My neighbor across the street is someone I admire, practically above all others, I could vote for her for that reason, but I happen to know she voted for Obama and that would not sit well with me, whether she's a good person, or not.

I decided to ask a question and was granted the privilege, despite my outsider status.

"I'd like to hear from the candidates, especially for the State Delegate, BEFORE, the vote."

"We don't do that at this level," the Chairman replied.

"Why not?"

"At this level we just share the opportunity around.  My Dad always said there are two things that shouldn't be discussed among friends, religion and politics."

Are you kidding me?  You don't want to talk politics at a political caucus?  I was incredulous.  I was about to protest when he pointed out that I was not allowed to speak in addition to being not allowed to vote.

Fortunately, I'd stirred up another rabble rouser or two who carried it from there.  One of them pointed out that he was interested in ousting Senator Hatch and wanted to know that the delegate he chose was like minded on the matter.  Makes sense to me.  I'd like to think the representatives I select will represent me, otherwise we might as well have a drawing rather than an election.  Ultimately, a compromise was reached and each candidate was given one minute to campaign for his or her election.  Hardly enough time to introduce themselves.  Somewhere, someone had written the rule that the meeting and its business must be concluded in one hour.


In the end, they chose a State Delegate who has yet to make up her mind about the Hatch issue and whose biggest delight the last time she served was a pile of free campaign T-Shirts to give her grandkids for pajamas.

Something tells me that this flimsy excuse for grass roots representation was not what President Monson had in mind when he encouraged me to go to my Caucus Meeting.  While I have made up my mind about the Hatch issue, the jury is still out about whether or not I should re-affiliate with the Republican Party.  I don't think my blood pressure could take many more such carryings on.

Leap Year Apology

I guess its okay that we have Leap Year.  I don't mind.  It's just funny that it seemed such a big deal when I was a kid.  It seemed so tragic that we couldn't get the calendar right without such a clumsy adjustment.  It seemed so hard to bear that my birthday and Christmas had to be delayed for an entire day!  I could hardly bare thinking about the poor souls who were born on that misfit day.  Why couldn't the Solstices and Equinoxes advance through the year like by birthday advances through the week?

Every four years the February and March calendars no longer match.  I like matches.  I always felt that God would, one day, reveal a calendar without such flaws.  Perhaps he will; but by then the rotations, if there are any, will likely be more precise and the earth less telestial.  Don't you think?

Now, I think there is a lesson even in this small fly in the ointment. Sometimes we have to make adjustments.  That's all there is to it.  Almost.

It seems like my life is just one big adjustment right now.  Perhaps though, it wouldn't be so if I had made more regular and measured adjustments all along.

Instead, I've lived more like a tectonic plate; building up pressure as I tried to maintain the status quo; only to experience enormous upheaval when things finally broke.  And, of course, as always it is nobody's fault but my own.  That might be fine if it didn't rattle and shake the inhabitants of the surrounding countryside.  Sorry.