(a continuation of the previous post...an application of the lyrics from "Where I Stood" by Missy Higgins)
"There were sounds in my head
Little voices whispering
That I should go and this should end
Oh and I found myself listening"
- I just talked about this similar idea in the last post. For a little more clarification, growing up I really didn't ever feel anxious at church. In fact, I quite enjoyed the contemplation time...even when younger, to be in my own head thinking about principles of love and some of the greater existential questions of life. And going to classes was great... I've always been naturally studious, so I "knew" all the right answers ;) and I felt very "successful" at church. Looking back, I did feel some blocks in discussing spirituality with my parents. I just noticed that if I got uncomfortable about something they were saying I sort of withdrew. I think there was a fear of being misunderstood, or seen as prideful or rebellious if I had a different perspective. So, it really wasn't until I started practicing therapy and I saw pain & situations that were outside of my perfectly formed framework of answers (and those of the church...as bishops, stake Presidents, etc. would send people to me to work with things they didn't know how to assist with), that I began to feel anxiety, anger and pain at church, and the God I'd been taught to believe in. I realized I didn't know squat, and I was angry everyone else was "pretending" to have answers (I don't believe this was done maliciously or even knowingly, and I'm sure many reading this may feel offended and misunderstood by that statement, but it's what I felt)...I felt like I knew they were "pretending" because it's what I had done for so long, without even knowing it. I'd often said "I know..." this or that because a leader of the Church had said it, or it had "felt" good, or I'd observed something and created the correlation in my min. In research it's important to control for variables so that when something is observed (through experience), we get the correlation correct. (i.e. "after a blessing someone experienced immediate healing."). The answer to that would be, "then the church must be true." While drawing this conclusion makes sense, it doesn't hold up against the reality that in many cases blessings don't lead to immediate healing, and in many cases blessings given in other religions also may lead to immediate healing. Assumptions and "I knows..." were made without really getting clear on the correlations. It wasn't until situations for which the church doctrine, as I knew it, couldn't offer an answer (and which I couldn't just put on the shelf labeled, "figure out later because it's not essential to your salvation to know this..."...that I really began to ask the questions with an "open" heart :)...without believing I had the answers or knew things I didn't really know.
I hadn't realized that I'd been lying to myself in believing I knew all the important answers, or that at least I belonged to the ONE organization in the world that had more answers than anywhere else, because my church was the one organization that God was most likely to communicate with. While there were certain experiences and feelings that I'd interepreted in certain ways, I didn't KNOW. That awareness for me has lifted a lot of weight (weight I didn't know I was carrying)...it's also left me open to receive answers through my intuition, in a myriad of places. And what I've found for me is that it isn't really about the answers for which there are currently no answers. It's about love. It's about understanding each situation for it's own uniqueness and supporting a path of self-discovery, an understanding of cause and effect based on actual reality, and authentic expression.
"Cause I don't know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
'Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood"
This piece...this really is a BIG one..."I don't know who I am, who I am without you." I had NO idea until the last few years how much of my identity was the church. I'm not talking my relationship with a higher love...i'm talking the church...the organization, the doctrines, the culture. When I decided to step back from church, I would go through moments of contemplating that would sometimes end up down the path of fear and panick. "What kind of a person am I?" "What DO I believe?" The panick would bring on more questions..."who is God...what is real? Who will I become without the mormon church?"... and I would feel the fear of disappearing into the black hole. In those moments I would remember the meditation techniques I'd been working with...I'd slow my breath, and I'd let go of the analyzing mind, and just say, "Jenny, in this moment what do you know?" When I'd sit with that I'd often feel that I knew that who I REALLY was was still there. "I believe in love," I'd acknowldege. "I've felt what it's like to love something/someone. I believe in that," I'd say in my mind. Sometimes I'd have to keep breathing with it, and just stay focused on that...just stay focused on what I knew...from my experience...not from what anyone had ever told me.
I went on a road trip with a good friend about 4 months ago. She'd had a really difficult time when I told her I was leaving the church. Mostly it really scared her. She'd been following similar lines of questions and thinking as I over the prior couple years. She's been studying therapy and so would often call to discuss our humanness, the meaning of life, etc...and we would always go back and couch it into the framework of the church since that's the language we both spoke. On our road trip one of the things she said on our drive out to Colorado was, "it's nice to be here with you, it makes me realize that you're still you, you're still the same person." While I was grateful to hear that, as it validated what I was also realizing about myself, I felt a tinge of sadness & anger towards all cultures, religions, groups, etc. that place themselves in such a way as to be above the big "S" Self. That the identity of the organization is what stands as the head. Rather than the identity of the person. Again, coming from the space of the religion and culture, I never would have realized or been able to acknowledge that without experiencing it. "I know I'm separate from the church," I would say, or "I know my relationship with God is separate from my relationship with the church." But, really I'd formed so many beliefs about who I was around the church, that it's taken some time...still working on it, to separate who I really am from the church. And, I suppose in a way, I will always be connected to the church because it was a part of my experience for so long.
If you're reading this and thinking, "no...I don't feel that way," ask yourself if you've ever said, "I don't know who I'd be without the church?" or "I don't know where I'd be without the church?" If so, it's an identity (an identity to something outside of yourself). It's one thing to acknowledge that my experiences have been influenced by the church, but quite strange to realize that without it, I'M STILL ME!!! I am still me!! I still have a conscience, I can still feel Love and "the spirit." I haven't just wanted to go out and get drunk, do crazy things have sex with whomever...and even if I did, and even if I'd wanted to more drastically change my experiences (ok...I have done a few things I wouldn't have expected of myself...part of my process I suppose), I don't believe our experiences ARE us. I believe they're our experiences. Again, I acknowledge that the church is a framework of language and perpectives, and community that can influence our experiences, and that may be helpful to us at any point along the way (as are many religions for many people), but there's nothing that is TRULY me and no principle of love based on my true identity as a being of love, that isn't as real and present in me from outside of the church as it is from within. I didn't know how to even begin trusting this until I stepped back.
It's also interesting to look at how I'd use it to identify others as well. I can clearly think about times that I met people who weren't in the church and I could hold the relationship much easier if I created an energetic separation between me and them, however subtle and unconsciously I did this. I can be their friend, I can talk with them, enjoy them, but I can't really get close to them...unless they want to hear "my" message of "truth." I felt it just wouldn't be safe. Again, there wasn't a way to conceptualize this until stepping back. When I did I began to realize that what I didn't even realize as walls to those outside of the church weren't there as much (it's a slow process). I noticed that I began to give more equal attention to the opinions of those outside the church, that I saw that they had just as much to offer me about understanding life, as I did them. I suddenly felt that I could begin to let myself feel "close" and "vulnerable" with people outside the church. That I didn't have to pretend to be this super human who had all the answers and never did anything wrong (to show my example of why the church was true). That I could be a human, that some of my thoughts and opinions would be similar, and some would be different...just like they were with anyone else, even in the church.
This has actually been one of my favorite parts of the experience...to notice myself open my heart and be more authentic not only with my "tribe," but with anyone I feel safe enough to be close to. I still notice some fear of dating outside the church. It's like there's some kind of false safety set up. If they're not in the church I have a fear that they will not hold their relationship to me as sacred, that they might be more likely to be an addict, that they'll be more likely to want divorce. I say this is a "false" safety, because as I've observed marriages both inside and outside of my office, I realize that church membership doesn't have anything to do with a good, close, loving marriage. The principles the church teaches (at least the love based ones) may definately be a benefit to relationships, but those principles are all found outside of the church as well. I have yet to find any principle of love that was important to me inside the church that is exclusive to the church. I'm now working to connect with others based on principles, not culture.
and above all, I'm now learning who I am, who I am without you.
"You are the Tree of Life. Beware of fractioning yourselves. Set not a fruit against a fruit, a leaf against a leaf, a bough against a bough; nor set the stem againsts the roots; nor set the tree against the mother-soil. That is precisely what you do when you love one part more than the rest, or to the exclusion of the rest."
-Mikhail Naimy
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Who I am (part 1)
This ended up being a LONG post...so I've decided to divide it up into three different posts. It incorporates many of the aspects of the experience that I've wanted to write, hence the divions into a verse 1, verse 2, etc...
A couple of months ago I went walking on a Sunday morning, as I had begun doing regularly this last year, to help prepare me to cope with a day of possible "mind games." I wrote a blog post about Sundays a little while back. While panic and fear about my doubts, and the information I was coming across, could surface any day of the week, Sunday was especially triggering. I found that I still wanted Sunday to be a day of contemplation. A moment to step out of the "drama" of the literal, day-to-day world, but this quieting of the mind could bring all sorts of strange fears & thoughts to the surface. I would often download podcasts from Mormon Stories and later from Mormon Expressions. It seemed they helped bring me back to the reality of my experiences and I found a sense of validation and okayness for what I was going through.
This is a side note, but it feels important to share: After I decided to stop attending church things were both good and bad. It really did feel like the right decision for me and so I felt strengthened by that, but when the confusion and fear would rise things would get so dark and overwhelming that I would sometimes feel panicky. It was like I was dying, and I feared falling into a blackhole and being swallowed up forever. One night when I was feeling particularly overwhelmed I ran into an acquaintance-friend at a dinner party. We got to talking about the church and I shared a little of the lonliness, confusion & overwhelm I was feeling. He mentioned "Mormon Stories" podcasts and that they might be somewhat helpful. I went home that night and looked them up, still feeling the fear of the blackhole, and of course feeling somewhat secretive as I was at that time internalizing shame for looking up information about the church outside of church sanctioned materials (this was before I had yet learned about the historical/doctrinal issues that later helped solidify my place "outside" the church). I don't remember the podcast I listened to that night, but I do remember laying there in bed, in the dark, and feeling my chest get lighter and lighter. I could relate to what was being talked about...and here they were talking about doubts and questions in the open. It felt so freeing to hear someone speaking honestly, without fear, the same words that were in my head. A few tears moved through as the tightness released from my body, and I felt I was cradled in a cacoon that night. Like a mother had lovingly wrapped a blanket around me, and knew what I was feeling, and was aware of what the whole picture was really about. In her cradling I knew I would be okay.
So...back to my walk. This particular day after listening to whatever podcast I had listened to I decided to pull up my music, and on came a song that I didn't know much about and I think had gotten on my playlist as a nice stretch song to play for a cycling class I'd been teaching. Ok...just one more side note...the same time I decided to leave the church I quite teaching my cycling class. Really, it's so strange to look back. But it was almost as if there was so much intensity happening in my mind and body day-to-day with the shifting, that to go teach a high energy cycling class, with high energy music was more than I could take. Just like I never thought I'd leave the church, I never thought I'd quit teaching, but one day I just knew I was done. I haven't been back since (it's been about a year). I found that more meditative exercise experiences were needed at this time, and so I focused on yoga and walking. Lots of tangents here, but I figure it may be helpful for anyone who wonders if going through this is supposed to feel so difficult in so many ways, even life shifting. May not be for everyone, but it was for me.
Ok, so truly...back to the walk and the song. This was the song I began listening to, and as I did it hit on so many things I was feeling. And so, I write it out here. First I list the lyrics, then I list the lyrics with the application to my own experience at the time. Before reading through the rest of the post, it may add to go look it up...even if you're not into popular mainstream music, it's a nice song...and you may get a feel for some of the emotion that was working its way through me at the time...as it all felt so big and serious at this point
"Where I Stood" (by Missy Higgins)
I don't know what I've done
Or if I like what I've begun
But something told me to run
And honey you know me it's all or none
There were sounds in my head
Little voices whispering
That I should go and this should end
Oh and I found myself listening
Cause I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
'Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood
See I thought love was black and white
That it was wrong or it was right
But you ain't leaving without a fight
And I think I am just as torn inside
Cause I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
Cause she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood
And I won't be far from where you are if ever you should call
You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all
But you taught me how to trust myself and so I say to you
This is what I have to do
Cause I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
Cause she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood
Oh, she who dares to stand where I stood
MY APPLICATION:
"I don't know what I've done"
- At this time it was still like a dream. I had been so solid in the church, I had loved the church, I had NEVER expected to leave, and so the experience was often as surreal as a dream. Sometimes I felt as though there was no longer any reality, and I really didn't know what had hit me, or what I'd done in deciding to step back...I didn't know how I'd gotten to where I was, and hadn't really been able to process my decision fully yet. It's also interesting to look back because I have more answers and clarity than I did at that time, but I knew it was time for me to be done. It was a similar feeling to certain aspects of my life I'd felt strongly to move on prior (sometimes quickly and without a lot of warning, such as leaving the therapy agency I'd been with to start my own practice, or the first condo I purchased). I had some reasoning, but for how strong I'd been in the church all my life, it didn't seem to make a lot of sense yet...it was just a knowing. And one thing I'd really built some experience with in the few years prior was that if there's that feeling...just move on it. The bits of information may not all be pieced together in a logical looking way yet, but they're there, encouraging the action, and so the message was to move. In a way, moments like this don't feel much like a decision in that something deep inside already knows it's moving, and in a way I felt like I was simply along for the ride.
It reminds me of Malcolm Gladwell's book, "Blink." He discusses how, depending on our experiences, or expertise, with certain areas of life we can know something before we know it. In some ways it felt like that. I remember having conversations with intution/ or "God" later on..."God if this is true, or if I experienced this or that spiritual experience in the church, why did it feel right to step back?" You may relate anytime you've made a decision you just knew deep inside that you needed to make for you, then without having all the answers, you go through the rough patches, and the grieving and confusion, and think..."why did I feel right about that?" So, again, I did have enough reasoning for the first move I made in stepping back, but just barely!
"Or if I like what I've begun"
- While I felt a freedom and peace like never before, I also felt waves of fear,anger, and confusion that I had never experienced. I was used to being a "happy person," and had prided myself on not being "too" emotional (when I
was young, my mom had mentioned she had been scared of having girls because they were so emotional. She reassured me, I was loved and wanted, and this had just been her experience as a young woman, but I remember thinking...I'll
never be too emotional, I don't want to be one of "those girls" that my mother wouldn't want). So, in some ways to be feeling anger was a new experience for me. Prior, I think if I felt anger about something I would just brush it under the rug so I wouldn't feel it, and I could put the perma- "happy" face back on...the emotion that I perceived was most acceptable.
I remember not too long before this experience I had just begun dating someone who was very active in the church. I'd been afraid to tell him where I was with things. We'd met the year prior at which time I was still fully active, and not anticipating otherwise (though frustrations and anxieties had been there for a couple of years). Before I decided to tell him I wasn't active anymore I thought, "maybe I can do this, maybe I can make the church work for me. It was a Sat. evening...the evening of Fall 2011 pristhood session. I was driving through the neighorhood, seeing men in suits and ties loading into cars, and feeling such a deep love for these men. They were like my dad and my brother...trying to do their best to love and serve & feel a connection with something more divine in this seemingly chaotic world. I longed to connect to the culture that had always felt so safe. I could do this, I could make this work. I really liked the man I'd started dating and thought about how I'd always wanted this. I remembered again the next morning why I couldn't make it work, and it was all so painful, so tough, that I often didn't like what I'd begun.
"But something told me to run
And honey you know me it's all or none"
- I remember the moment I was sitting in sacrament meeting. While there were moments of feeling "the Spirit," love and connection, there were also so many moments of grief and pain, which would bring up anger. "If it's true, why does the Church still see things this way (ways I knew from my psychological training, and then my own personal experiments with healing, were damaging to the psyche). I remembered what a mentor had said to me earlier in the week when I explained to him the anger that was rising towards the church ("Jenny, if you're angry with someone, it means you're blaming them for something you're not yet willing to do for yourself.") I thought about this, and realized I was expecting the Church to change, I was expecting the Church to take responsibility for my spirituality, and provide more "fitting" soil for my spiritual growth based on my current needs, but I wasn't willing to do that for myself. I wasn't willing to make a change, to step back from the church, and to go out and find more useful soil for what I was needing at the time. I wasn't willing to do for myself what I wanted the church to do for me, and so I realized that the fear and anger I was carrying was a sign that I wasn't moving forward with what I needed to for me. That I could love the church, and where it was, and all the experiences it had made space for in my life up to that point...I could love it if I left. If I did what I needed to do for me, I wouldn't need to be angry at the church for not doing it for me. And so I "ran," kind of slowly in my heart, though at that point I went from being a 100% attender since birth, to a 0% attender at 32. And yes, the all or nothing, black and white church teachings aided me in making it an all or none ;) I did have to be careful of this, and still do (on an emotional level), but I did feel it would be best to commit to not going back for 3 months and then I could reevaluate from there (it really was like my past relationship break-ups. Sometimes when you've been connected for a long time you have to make a clean break while some of the wounds heal, otherwise, it's easy to get back together just because it's habitual, and feels comfortable, even if it's not in your highest interest to stay in that relationship any longer.
(cont....)
A couple of months ago I went walking on a Sunday morning, as I had begun doing regularly this last year, to help prepare me to cope with a day of possible "mind games." I wrote a blog post about Sundays a little while back. While panic and fear about my doubts, and the information I was coming across, could surface any day of the week, Sunday was especially triggering. I found that I still wanted Sunday to be a day of contemplation. A moment to step out of the "drama" of the literal, day-to-day world, but this quieting of the mind could bring all sorts of strange fears & thoughts to the surface. I would often download podcasts from Mormon Stories and later from Mormon Expressions. It seemed they helped bring me back to the reality of my experiences and I found a sense of validation and okayness for what I was going through.
This is a side note, but it feels important to share: After I decided to stop attending church things were both good and bad. It really did feel like the right decision for me and so I felt strengthened by that, but when the confusion and fear would rise things would get so dark and overwhelming that I would sometimes feel panicky. It was like I was dying, and I feared falling into a blackhole and being swallowed up forever. One night when I was feeling particularly overwhelmed I ran into an acquaintance-friend at a dinner party. We got to talking about the church and I shared a little of the lonliness, confusion & overwhelm I was feeling. He mentioned "Mormon Stories" podcasts and that they might be somewhat helpful. I went home that night and looked them up, still feeling the fear of the blackhole, and of course feeling somewhat secretive as I was at that time internalizing shame for looking up information about the church outside of church sanctioned materials (this was before I had yet learned about the historical/doctrinal issues that later helped solidify my place "outside" the church). I don't remember the podcast I listened to that night, but I do remember laying there in bed, in the dark, and feeling my chest get lighter and lighter. I could relate to what was being talked about...and here they were talking about doubts and questions in the open. It felt so freeing to hear someone speaking honestly, without fear, the same words that were in my head. A few tears moved through as the tightness released from my body, and I felt I was cradled in a cacoon that night. Like a mother had lovingly wrapped a blanket around me, and knew what I was feeling, and was aware of what the whole picture was really about. In her cradling I knew I would be okay.
So...back to my walk. This particular day after listening to whatever podcast I had listened to I decided to pull up my music, and on came a song that I didn't know much about and I think had gotten on my playlist as a nice stretch song to play for a cycling class I'd been teaching. Ok...just one more side note...the same time I decided to leave the church I quite teaching my cycling class. Really, it's so strange to look back. But it was almost as if there was so much intensity happening in my mind and body day-to-day with the shifting, that to go teach a high energy cycling class, with high energy music was more than I could take. Just like I never thought I'd leave the church, I never thought I'd quit teaching, but one day I just knew I was done. I haven't been back since (it's been about a year). I found that more meditative exercise experiences were needed at this time, and so I focused on yoga and walking. Lots of tangents here, but I figure it may be helpful for anyone who wonders if going through this is supposed to feel so difficult in so many ways, even life shifting. May not be for everyone, but it was for me.
Ok, so truly...back to the walk and the song. This was the song I began listening to, and as I did it hit on so many things I was feeling. And so, I write it out here. First I list the lyrics, then I list the lyrics with the application to my own experience at the time. Before reading through the rest of the post, it may add to go look it up...even if you're not into popular mainstream music, it's a nice song...and you may get a feel for some of the emotion that was working its way through me at the time...as it all felt so big and serious at this point
"Where I Stood" (by Missy Higgins)
I don't know what I've done
Or if I like what I've begun
But something told me to run
And honey you know me it's all or none
There were sounds in my head
Little voices whispering
That I should go and this should end
Oh and I found myself listening
Cause I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
'Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood
See I thought love was black and white
That it was wrong or it was right
But you ain't leaving without a fight
And I think I am just as torn inside
Cause I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
Cause she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood
And I won't be far from where you are if ever you should call
You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all
But you taught me how to trust myself and so I say to you
This is what I have to do
Cause I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
Cause she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood
Oh, she who dares to stand where I stood
MY APPLICATION:
"I don't know what I've done"
- At this time it was still like a dream. I had been so solid in the church, I had loved the church, I had NEVER expected to leave, and so the experience was often as surreal as a dream. Sometimes I felt as though there was no longer any reality, and I really didn't know what had hit me, or what I'd done in deciding to step back...I didn't know how I'd gotten to where I was, and hadn't really been able to process my decision fully yet. It's also interesting to look back because I have more answers and clarity than I did at that time, but I knew it was time for me to be done. It was a similar feeling to certain aspects of my life I'd felt strongly to move on prior (sometimes quickly and without a lot of warning, such as leaving the therapy agency I'd been with to start my own practice, or the first condo I purchased). I had some reasoning, but for how strong I'd been in the church all my life, it didn't seem to make a lot of sense yet...it was just a knowing. And one thing I'd really built some experience with in the few years prior was that if there's that feeling...just move on it. The bits of information may not all be pieced together in a logical looking way yet, but they're there, encouraging the action, and so the message was to move. In a way, moments like this don't feel much like a decision in that something deep inside already knows it's moving, and in a way I felt like I was simply along for the ride.
It reminds me of Malcolm Gladwell's book, "Blink." He discusses how, depending on our experiences, or expertise, with certain areas of life we can know something before we know it. In some ways it felt like that. I remember having conversations with intution/ or "God" later on..."God if this is true, or if I experienced this or that spiritual experience in the church, why did it feel right to step back?" You may relate anytime you've made a decision you just knew deep inside that you needed to make for you, then without having all the answers, you go through the rough patches, and the grieving and confusion, and think..."why did I feel right about that?" So, again, I did have enough reasoning for the first move I made in stepping back, but just barely!
"Or if I like what I've begun"
- While I felt a freedom and peace like never before, I also felt waves of fear,anger, and confusion that I had never experienced. I was used to being a "happy person," and had prided myself on not being "too" emotional (when I
was young, my mom had mentioned she had been scared of having girls because they were so emotional. She reassured me, I was loved and wanted, and this had just been her experience as a young woman, but I remember thinking...I'll
never be too emotional, I don't want to be one of "those girls" that my mother wouldn't want). So, in some ways to be feeling anger was a new experience for me. Prior, I think if I felt anger about something I would just brush it under the rug so I wouldn't feel it, and I could put the perma- "happy" face back on...the emotion that I perceived was most acceptable.
I remember not too long before this experience I had just begun dating someone who was very active in the church. I'd been afraid to tell him where I was with things. We'd met the year prior at which time I was still fully active, and not anticipating otherwise (though frustrations and anxieties had been there for a couple of years). Before I decided to tell him I wasn't active anymore I thought, "maybe I can do this, maybe I can make the church work for me. It was a Sat. evening...the evening of Fall 2011 pristhood session. I was driving through the neighorhood, seeing men in suits and ties loading into cars, and feeling such a deep love for these men. They were like my dad and my brother...trying to do their best to love and serve & feel a connection with something more divine in this seemingly chaotic world. I longed to connect to the culture that had always felt so safe. I could do this, I could make this work. I really liked the man I'd started dating and thought about how I'd always wanted this. I remembered again the next morning why I couldn't make it work, and it was all so painful, so tough, that I often didn't like what I'd begun.
"But something told me to run
And honey you know me it's all or none"
- I remember the moment I was sitting in sacrament meeting. While there were moments of feeling "the Spirit," love and connection, there were also so many moments of grief and pain, which would bring up anger. "If it's true, why does the Church still see things this way (ways I knew from my psychological training, and then my own personal experiments with healing, were damaging to the psyche). I remembered what a mentor had said to me earlier in the week when I explained to him the anger that was rising towards the church ("Jenny, if you're angry with someone, it means you're blaming them for something you're not yet willing to do for yourself.") I thought about this, and realized I was expecting the Church to change, I was expecting the Church to take responsibility for my spirituality, and provide more "fitting" soil for my spiritual growth based on my current needs, but I wasn't willing to do that for myself. I wasn't willing to make a change, to step back from the church, and to go out and find more useful soil for what I was needing at the time. I wasn't willing to do for myself what I wanted the church to do for me, and so I realized that the fear and anger I was carrying was a sign that I wasn't moving forward with what I needed to for me. That I could love the church, and where it was, and all the experiences it had made space for in my life up to that point...I could love it if I left. If I did what I needed to do for me, I wouldn't need to be angry at the church for not doing it for me. And so I "ran," kind of slowly in my heart, though at that point I went from being a 100% attender since birth, to a 0% attender at 32. And yes, the all or nothing, black and white church teachings aided me in making it an all or none ;) I did have to be careful of this, and still do (on an emotional level), but I did feel it would be best to commit to not going back for 3 months and then I could reevaluate from there (it really was like my past relationship break-ups. Sometimes when you've been connected for a long time you have to make a clean break while some of the wounds heal, otherwise, it's easy to get back together just because it's habitual, and feels comfortable, even if it's not in your highest interest to stay in that relationship any longer.
(cont....)
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