How I Survive Mother's Day

I am the proud survivor of 22 Mother's Days as an LDS mother, and they haven't all been easy! Today's the day I share some of my survival tips with all of you.

1. Learn that Mother's Day is not about you. I'm not sure exactly what Mother's Day is all about. But once I learned it wasn't about making me happy, I enjoyed it so much more. The disappointment was gone and I could flow with whatever happened (or didn't happen!)

2. Help your family succeed. The husband and the children may have difficulty making this day a success on their own, as mine do. The younger children often become disappointed when they are caught without anything to give. By all means, go out and buy yourself some lovely things to give to your husband to pass out to the children.

3. Forgive your mother, just for this one day. My mother and I had issues all of my life. One year, as I was reading "Divine Secrets of the YaYa Sisterhood," I had an epiphany. My mother had done the best she could. She wasn't actually trying to hurt me or be a horrible mother. She had done what she was capable of.

4. Celebrate your mother, grandmother, and other mother figures that you know. Do something special and meaningful for them. Try sending anonymous gifts to the elderly or shut-ins. Little gestures are best. Don't put too much time or money into this. Make it fun for yourself. If it's not fun, don't do it.

5. Don't make Church too personal. Be detached. Think: "That was probably a comforting talk for Sister Jones to hear." Think: "Brother Fry's talk really honored his mother. How nice that he remembers his childhood fondly." If someone wants to give you a flower, take the flower. If they don't give you a flower, let it pass. Just let this be one of those screwy Sundays that happen sometimes.

6. Do the planning yourself. Announce ahead of time: "For Mother's Day, we are all going on a picnic!" or, "Let's go to that new Italian restaurant." or, "After Church I'm going to spend three hours by myself in my room reading." Then thank everyone profusely for giving you the kind of Mother's Day you wanted.

7. Grieve for your deceased mother. After my husband's parents died, he felt like an orphan, even though he was in his 40's. Mother's Day is a sad time for him. It helps when I encourage him to tell the children stories of his mother. He enjoys remembering her in this way. Others might visit the cemetery with flowers, light candles in front of her picture, or write memorial poetry and thoughts.

8. Ignore the day. Some women, for a variety of reasons, may find Mother's Day excruciatingly painful. If you are having a hard year, don't feel obliged to be a part of the holiday. Skip Church, head out into nature, go to a movie. Extend an invitation to some friends who don't have children to come over for dinner and game night.

9. Don't succumb to the commercialization of Mother's Day. Make your cards. If you don't have much money, don't send expensive floral arrangements! Instead, make phone calls, send free e-cards, or make a personal visit.

10. Enjoy whatever you are given. Most mothers are wonderful at this. We love flowers in plastic cups, homemade cards, gifts that are too expensive, things that we don't need or want. One year a friend received the gift of a plunger and toilet bowl cleaning set from her husband. She received it graciously and saved her laughter and groans for her best friends the next day. We have laughed hilariously about this gift so many times over the years!

Please add any of your Mother's Day survival tips if you feel so inclined. Happy Mother's Day to all my blog friends!



**
To DD:
Virtual rosepetals in your freshly caulked bathtub from me to you--to celebrate your womanhood!

The Sacred Union

The religious texts which have been passed down to us through history have the distinction of being patriarchal in their outlook. In the Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Koran, and other sacred writings, we inherit a male perspective, voice, and presence. Many of the symbols, images, and metaphors for the Divine coming from the Old Testament and Book of Mormon involve warfare, the struggle for hierarchy and power, or images of conquering and subduing the land. Salvation through sacraments and by proper authority is stressed. I often wonder what a uniquely feminine mystical theology would look like.

I believe that female mysticism has much to do with relationships. In the Garden of Eden pageant portrayed in the Temple, it is instructive to view the individual encounters of Adam and Eve with the Satan figure. When Satan introduces himself to the man, he comes bearing the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, and suggests that Adam partake of this fruit. Adam refuses unequivocally. Next, Satan presents himself to the woman with the same offer.

Eve's reaction to Satan is quite different than Adam's. She first wants to know who Satan is. What is his relationship to her? He tells her that he is her brother. She then wonders why a brother would ask her to go against a command of the Father. She is trying to make sense of the relationships involved first, before she will consider the offer.

Interestingly, many of my spiritual strivings involve an imaging of the Divine Feminine and the primordial Sacred Union. I picture "Elohim"--a plural form of the word "God"--to be a sacred union of the male and female Deity. Thus Elohim created male and female in "his" own image. (In many languages, the pronoun "his" expresses both sexes.) I enjoy pondering this relationship as well as the relationship they maintain with their children, humanity.

Reconnection with the divine feminine is essential to our spiritual evolution. However, this must not be done in opposition to the patriarchal father aspect of God. The image of the Sacred Union topples both the notion of extreme female bias in the form of radical feminism, and male dominance with its patriarchal and hierarchical idealogical systems.

In order to reach a more complete knowledge of the Father/Mother God, there must be more freedom allowed to a female imaging of the Divine Feminine. For example, healing is a mystical rite which involves both feminine and masculine. Perhaps the masculine priesthood power provides strength and battles against the infectious elements. The feminine priestesshood is manifest through touch, empathy, discernment, binding. When we eliminate the feminine from our rituals of healing, we lose much. We see a reluctance to touch the body parts involved, and we gradually lose this in our healing, blessing, and temple rituals.

I am interested in hearing modern Mormon reactions to feminine mysticism. Can you see female influences in the symbolism and ritual of the Church? Are you afraid of feminine mysticism? Can you see ways in which the Divine Masculine and Feminine work together in Sacred Union?

The Weeping Mormon

The clouds in Vernal today were so close to the ground, it seemed you could reach out and touch the face of God. They were grey-blue in color, and the celestial palette was that one you see on certain spring days when the sun shines through the rain and the leaves are the brightest emerald green. It struck my heart so strongly that the pain has been there all day. As I read through the blogs, I've mourned, and I've wept, and I've wished to comfort those faceless souls I know only through their passionate words.

First, I came across a tribute by John Remy:

...today I realized that when I hear Regina Spektor sing, I think about Jana. Her music makes me hyperaware of Jana’s presence in my heart, my mind, my soul.

People at Church seem to remember two of my pseudo-sermons across the pulpit. One was my apology-ridden ‘doubtamony,’ and the other was when I declared that Jana was my goddess.

Mormons take this god and goddess business serious–every one of us is a literal child of god and are therefore godlings, beings of Godly potential. And Jana has always been my goddess. In a life stripped of much of the divinity and meaning that it once had, Jana is my Ishtar, my Innana, my Isis. She is the one being left to me to invest all my irrational faith in, to spend my life in adoration.

I like to think that ours is a love of legends–that some day someone will write songs about it. When I listen to Regina Spektor, I feel like someone already has.

Strange that reading this would make me weep. I read this, and I wondered what my life would be like if someone loved me so much.

A poignant image of the "Mormon Circle" written by Margaret Young also touched me deeply:

[My father] would continue giving priesthood blessings to me and to my siblings throughout our lives—the most difficult one being at my brother’s hospital bedside after we were told he would not survive the injuries he had sustained in an accident. That brother, Dad’s namesake (Bobby), lifted his arms as high as he could when Dad walked into the ER room. Bobby was threaded and tubed to monitors and IVs, and being transfused. He said one word: “Hug.” And that’s it—that’s the picture. Dad is maneuvering around the ganglia of wires and tubes to embrace his son, and then to bless him. It’s a godly scene. It expresses the image I have of God—a corporeal being who can reach around our mortal mischief and earthbound wiring to embrace us in the fullness of His glory, no matter how damaged we are.

Later, when Dad’s pancreas failed, it was Bobby who blessed him. That’s the Mormon circle.

Love, eternal union, the Mormon circle. They are so beautiful and so ethereal they make one want to sing and to weep, at the same time. But like the clouds I watch above the Uintah Basin, they can be elusive. There is another side to the story. There are those who have been evicted from the Mormon circle.

Mayan Elephant wrote, concerning the PBS special:

Will y'all think I am a lesser elephant if I admit that I cried? It's fine if you think that. It is true. That was brutal to watch. Effing brutal.

I lost it.

Margaret Toscano did me in. I was just amused without seeing anything very interesting, until Toscano came along. Then, it all changed.

I don't know if there are others on here that have sat on the jury side of a Mormon church court. I have. I was a High Priest in the church. I was in the seats they pictured in that video, the jury seats. Damnit. There is no redemption for that. None. Not ever. It is part of me now. I dont expect to ever be redeemed for having been a part of one of those courts. I can only hope to adjust after having made that part of my life experience.

Hearing Toscano tore me to pieces...
On one hand, I saw Toscano, and I knew she would sit in that chair, and take the bullet for me, for my local leaders, for my mission companions, for my wife and kids, for all women, for Mormons. She could do it because she loved Mormons. Does anyone get that? She loves that community.

Toscano being denied the chance to dress her sister is unreal. If anyone reads this and claims families are forever, remember that image, of a sister, divided from her family, her heritage and ritual...

Tribes and families take care of their own. Cults threaten their own and brainwash them to think its a blessing.

This is not what my people gave their lives for...

Equality's words on the same subject:

And then Margaret Toscano told her story. Toscano's sister Janice Allred was excommunicated for publishing a scholarly article on Heavenly Mother (and whose heart-wrenching account of her own kangaroo-court church trial can be found right here) and her story hit me like the sucker punch that killed Houdini. I was floored, overcome with a wave of undifferentiated emotion--a mingling of anger, sadness, liberation, enlightenment. I had read Allred's story and some of the stories of the September Six. But Toscano tells her story so eloquently and passionately that I could not help but be deeply, profoundly moved. And then I went to the PBS web site and as I read her whole interview, two years of searching, praying, meditating, discussing, reading, and thinking about Mormonism and my relationship to it coalesced in my soul.

The totality of thoughts and feelings from hour upon hour of exploration and examination gathered into tight focus. And I was left with a conviction stronger than the cords of death. I now believe that, in good conscience, I can no longer sustain an organization that finds women like Margaret Toscano a threat; an organization that inspires a misplaced zeal that tears families apart; an organization that inspires the kind of unblinking obedience that keeps a missionary from coming home for his mother's funeral (and whose death was a direct result of sacrificing reason on the altar of a misguided faith); an organization that fears the search for knowledge, discourages the publication of accurate history, and punishes the telling of truth; an organization that scapegoats gays, subjugates women, and vilifies intellectuals; an organization that, in short, dehumanizes people to advance its own interest in self-preservation. In sum, I have arrived at the conclusion that the LDS Church "as presently constituted" does violence to my sense of morality.

I saw it happen before my eyes again today on a thread at FMH. A commenter seemed to relate to Margaret's story and shared some of his private pain. He spoke of how Mormon ritual can get in the way of human compassion and the process of grief, and sever the family in one of its most vulnerable moments. "We probably all know someone who wasn’t able to attend a marriage ceremony because they hadn’t met ritual requirements. Many of my own family couldn’t attend my wedding for that exact reason," he said. "Now that I no longer number myself among the faithful, I will not be ritually qualified to fully participate in the celebration of any new child born into my family."

Rather than words of comfort or encouragement, those in the Mormon circle assigned words of blame:

"No one is banned from those spiritual steps except by their own choice."

"The apostasy and/or the sinful life which separates from the individual from the gospel is the source of the violence in the separation. It creates the conflict the, the rest of it is symptomatic of the situation."

"Nowhere does it say that Christ allowed those who were not worthy and did not seek worthiness or forgiveness the same blessings that those who did do what was required received."

"I think it’s that you are choosing to separate yourself from her. It is her decision to marry in the temple. Your choices separate you from the temple."

"the Lee guy from the MMM argued to his deathbed (if I get the facts wrong, I am just arguing a point) that he was justified in killing those pioneers. Should he have full access to the rituals because he felt like he was acting with integrity?"

"I’m not sure I believe your assertion that you have found peace. I hate to point out the obvious but your very presence commenting on this blog is a good indication that you haven’t."

"There seems to be an intentional naivete, a willful simplicity about how you understand love and family which allows, indeed, causes you to think you see a contradiction where others do not."

"You seem to like to put this issue in the darkest, most insulting light. That is my point. You could choose to see it as a positive expression of deep personal conviction, but instead you let yourself be insulted and excluded."

Today I am the weeping Mormon. I see the Mormon circle and it's beauty--I see its exclusivity. We like to believe that someone is being excluded because they choose to remove themselves through sin. Our Savior never let sin stop him from holding one of his sheep close to his bosom. We don't know what sin or righteousness resides in others' hearts. In reality we are excluding people because they are different. We leave them out because we do not understand.

Today I hear these stories, and I wish to be a part of their circle. A circle of integrity, of questioning, of questing. I admire their great souls, stretched large with travail and heartbreak. I wish in my weeping to share a bit of the pain. I wish you to hear their words and feel their humanity and their longing.

Johnny writes:

The most valuable thing I learned from being Mormon was the experience of losing it. Honestly, it is the deepest pain I have ever gone through. If God asked me to do it again, I would plead for him to rip out my finger nails one by one instead. I feel the angst that Satre’s protagonist in his novel Nausea felt. “Then the Nausea seized me, I dropped to a seat, I no longer knew where I was; I saw the colours spin slowly around me, I wanted to vomit. And since that time, the Nausea has not left me, it holds me.”

I don’t know of anyone else who has has experienced this the same way, and if I do, they have never actually told me. Emerging from that has taken a lot of courage, and I feel like I can face existential struggles with more strength then I ever had in the past. Also, choosing to leave went against everything that my underlying psychological desires would have led me to. Thus, I feel like I can say that I don’t believe things based upon purely psychological motivations.

I know it sounds strange to say that the most valuable experience I gained from Mormonism was leaving it, but for the first time I took a step in the dark and that was a defining moment for me.

Mormons take this god and goddess business seriously-–every one of us is a literal child of god and are therefore godlings, beings of Godly potential.

What if?

This is a question I posed over at FMH in a comment. It really was a threadjack, so I thought I'd ask it here.

What if an active member of the Church went in for a TR interview. S/he could answer most of the questions satisfactorily. S/he paid tithing, obeyed the WoW, served in the Church, followed local leaders. But to the questions about HF and Jesus, to the questions about Joseph Smith, the Book of Mormon, s/he could only say, “I don’t know. I’ve prayed about it, and I haven’t received an answer.”
Do you think s/he would be worthy of a temple recommend? Should the Bishop let this member go?

Facing East

Facing East is the newest play by Carol Lynn Pearson which premiered last November in Salt Lake City at Plan B Theater. I was thrilled to see that the play was opening again in Salt Lake before heading to New York City and an off-Broadway run, and then a San Francisco run in August. Last weekend when I was in Salt Lake I had the opportunity to go and see it with my husband.

The play is about a Mormon couple at the graveside of their gay son, who has just committed suicide. There are only three actors--the parents, and their son's partner, who they meet for the first time halfway through the play. The father, a local radio personality, is beginning to question himself and the family he has built as he wonders how he has failed his son. The mother is dealing with her deep grief by holding ever stronger to her Mormon faith.

Carol Lynn succeeds brilliantly at demonstrating how the Mormon faith can conflict so strongly with a gay person struggling to find purpose in life. To her credit, she does this while maintaining an accurate, sympathetic, and poignant view of Mormonism. As liberal as I sometimes am, I found myself sympathizing with the views of the very conservative and doctrinaire mother, Ruth. She believes the teachings of the Church, and she wants her son to be happy, but she feels this cannot happen while he is in the "bonds of sin." She doesn't come across as misguided or stupid, though her religious beliefs cause unbearable pain to her son. It is clear that what she has taught him has made him the beautiful person that he was in life. On the other hand, it is also apparent that there is no reconciling homosexuality and the teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

We get to know Andrew through several flashbacks. He was a sensitive cello player and returned missionary. He used terms like "Kolob" in everyday conversation. He sang hymns to divert negative thoughts. It is especially apparent to Latter-day Saints viewing the play that the Church made an indelible mark upon him, as it seems to do to all who grow up under its influence. In fact, I doubt that nonmembers watching this can see as we do the extreme disconnect this causes. Part of you is Mormon, part is something you instinctively fear and abhor. As you come to accept one, you must reject the other. There is no consolidating the two.

The play closes with Ruth leaving her husband and her son's lover at the gravesite and going off to join the rest of the mourners with the food in the chapel. Before she leaves, she reaches out in the only way she can by providing advice on a recipe. But this is a woefully inadequate attempt to make a personal connection. It is symbolic of the efforts the Church has made to reach out to our GLBT members. Alex, the father, represents the direction that perhaps Carol Lynn hopes the Church will take. He has questioned the way he treated his son in the past, realized he never truly knew him, and now reaches out to the partner and makes plans to meet him for dinner. When I was viewing the play, I wondered why Alex didn't invite Marcus back to the chapel with him. I now realize that wouldn't have worked. It is not enough to invite GLBT's to join us on our turf. We must be willing to see things through their eyes and come together on neutral territory.

FMH Bloggersnacker

What a privilege it was this weekend to attend the FMH Bloggersnacker and meet some of the great women bloggers of our time! I've admired these women online for quite a while, and I must say they are even more extraordinary in person. Our hostess was FMHJanet, who provided us the venue in one of those older Utah homes which I absolutely adore. The "Eliza R. Snow" of the blogging world graced us with her presence--none other than FMHLisa along with her green jello dish.

The food was a smorgasbord provided by Mormon women anxious to impress each other with their cooking prowress. Whoever made those peanut butter brownie type thingies, that was my favorite. Ham, fried chicken, hummus, dips, taquitos, Greek olives, homemade bread, (and other things that I don't know the names of, but you can find here), I tried it all. I became an unabashed "Cafeteria Mormon" for the evening. For your viewing pleasure is the following picture of our feast:


That picture truly does not do justice to the succulent food that was available for our tasting pleasure. So I'm also posting this sensuous photograph of breasts and green jello which I am considering for submission in one of the more upscale food magazines:



The infant, four babies, and 14-year-old daughter were all well-behaved and charming. A few men were daring enough to join this event. FMHJanet's husband seemed quite happy to remain in the kitchen much of the time, though he wasn't wearing his apron. MarkIV made an appearance, conversing comfortably with all the ladies. And one of the bloggers' young husband made a good showing for himself when he found himself seated in the midst of an explicit conversation about tandem nursing and midwifery.

My favorite quote from the evening came from FMHLisa when the talk turned to early Mormon women and their gatherings. She surveyed the group and remarked, "If we were living back then, we'd already be speaking in tongues by now!"

I could only spend 2 1/2 hours at the Bloggersnacker, and they flew by like I had only been there 15 minutes. I'm so glad I met you all, and I'm looking forward to our continued association.

Exclusive Interview by Jana Remy

I happpened upon this great opportunity to be interviewed by Jana Remy! Makes me feel a little bit famous, even.

1) If you were a sea creature, what would you be and why?
(I love this question because of my affinity for the water and water sports. When I lived for 2 years in Hawaii I practically dwelt in the ocean.)
I am much like a sea anenome. I have various tentacles which represent my assorted, disparate personalities. One of my tentacles is the dutiful Visiting Teacher, one is the Sunstone Reader. One tentacle basks in the sun at an upscale resort, another works with disadvantaged Native American children. If touched, the tentacles of a sea anenome retract into the body for protection. They can be spectacular and beautiful, but they're poisonous, so watch out!

2) What heroine from a book is most like you? Why?
Jana must know that if I'm not immersed in the ocean, I am immersed in a book! I have a fascination with the heroine of one of Orson Scott Card's early books: Wyrms. I like the myth of a heroine on a quest. Patience is a young girl about whom prophecies have been written. She will either save the world or destroy it. I see in myself a huge potential for good that can easily be turned to evil. One reviewer said that Wyrms had left him "vaguely disturbed, as if someone I knew closely had lost part of her humanity to fulfill a crucial mission."

3) What book do you recommend that everyone read and why?
There are so many of them. But you should read The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone. It is a biographical novel about Michaelangelo. It will give you a sense of the majesty and pathos of life.

4) How many hours/day do you spend online?
At the least I spend an hour a day on line. I rarely miss a day. I have been known to spend the entire day and into the night online. (It's always broken up by trips to the laundry room, taking kids here and there, yard work, my job, etc. I do have some responsibilites.) But I check my email, blog, keep in contact with friends from Houston, study the scriptures, learn Hebrew, do research for my books, all online.

5) If you could live anywhere besides Vernal, where would you relocate? Why?
I loved Houston, but mostly because of the circle of friends I had there, and my great house and neighborhood. I don't think I could go back. Southern California is fantastic, but I think I would have liked it better 20 years ago. It's too crowded and expensive now. So I'll have to say Hawaii. Somewhere on the North Shore, away from it all. My criteria are: warm weather (I could care less about four seasons!), proximity to a large body of water, cultural and recreational opportunities without a dense population.

Now it's your opportunity to be interviewed by the (in)famous Bored in Vernal!! If you want to play along with this meme:

1. Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me.” If I don’t have your email address, leave it for me in the comments or email it to me.

2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.

3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Go see the people I've interviewed so far:
Joseph Addison
Ima
John Remy (a twofer!)
Jo in Utah
Johnny

Three Nephites Sighting

I went to Provo this weekend for a Coaches Meeting and spent some time at BYU. In the Family History section of the HBLLibrary, one of the little old workers was telling an exciting story of one of the Three Nephites who had visited him in his home to bring an important message. I must tell you, people, these stories are a serious hindrance to my faith. I won't go as far as to say that I don't believe in them. It's just that I really doubt that three pre-immortal beings are running around Provo visiting people in their homes. And yet these people are as sure of their Three Nephites sightings as I am of any of the spiritual manifestations I have experienced.


Another impediment to my faith: Daughter #3 came back from BYU-Idaho for the summer; and every third word out of her mouth is "frick."

Little Purple Pansies

I joined the Church as a 19-year-old college student in North Carolina. Soon I received my first calling. I was to be the Primary chorister. I loved to sing, but this was extremely stressful. I didn't know how to conduct music, and I knew none of the Primary songs. The pianist helped me learn some basic patterns, and each week I would go to the basement of my dorm where the piano was located. With one finger I would painstakingly pick out the melody and teach myself the song, then practice conducting it. I'd make a poster, a visual, or a game. I'd spend several hours preparing, and the entire week worrying. One week the new song I was to teach was "Little Purple Pansies," a song not included in our current Primary book. I thought the words had a great message, and I still remember them:

Little purple pansies touched with yellow gold,
Growing in one corner of the garden old,
We are very tiny, but must try, try, try,
Just one spot to gladden, you and I.

In whatever corner we may chance to grow,
Whether cold or warm the wind may ever blow,
Dark the day, or sunny, we must try, try, try
Just one spot to gladden, you and I.

I had a wonderful visual/game for this song, and I knew all the words by heart so I wouldn't be bound to the book. Unfortunately I also had an entire row of 11-year old boys in the back. That day they decided to sing, "Little purple panties." The one song all year they sang at the top of their lungs. "Little purple panties touched with yellow gold...hahahahaha!" I had not choice but to continue with the song, as I knew no others. It was pure torture.

Perhaps because of this horrific experience, I now sometimes have reservations that one purple pansy in a tiny corner of the world can make any difference. I consider myself an idealistic person, and I'm involved in several "causes." But I often despair that my small efforts can have any influence in the world.

When John Remy introduced our Book Club selection for this month, Adam Hochschild's Bury the Chains, I was enthralled by his introduction. The book is about a small group of Quakers who started a movement which eventually resulted in the abolition of the trans-Atlantic slave trade. John says, "I’m not selling Quakerism here, folks. I’m selling idealism. In a generation or two, deeply entrenched, unjust attitudes can be reversed by the focused and passionated efforts of a few."

I got my book in the mail last week, and I've read the first three chapters. Although a history book, it is as readable as a novel, with a great story line and fascinating characters. I'm already enamored with John Newton, a man with a great love, great ambitions, and great weaknesses. In the first chapters, I've already encountered the doubts an idealist can experience as they run up against the status quo. Olaudah Equiano, a free black man in England, attempts but fails to rescue a friend of his who is seized and placed on a vessel bound for the West Indies.

"Equiano could paint his face and pass for white, at least in the dark; he could navigate skillfully through the white world's law courts and networks of influential people. But he was powerless to stop a black friend from being plunged back into slavery and tormented to an early death. Only a tiny minority of people in Britain openly oppposed slavery, and he and [Granville] Sharp (a lawyer) were almost alone in having actively tried to help its victims. He sank into a despair so bitter that he went to sea again and resolved "never more to return to England."

I feel deep in my soul that there are things we as individuals have promised the universe we will do. I think though we may try to escape, we will always have a profound interest and investment in these things, and be led to them over and over. I'm hoping as I read this book, it will rekindle within me a greater idealism and desire to discover and accomplish my vocation.

The Magical Transforming Female

Did you notice that the names of all the "magical transforming females" in the three films we have discussed were "Mary?" Carol Lynn Pearson sees this as no coincidence, and says that "Mary seems to be the closest name we have to a whole woman." Maria in The Sound of Music represents the maternal aspect of the Divine Feminine. Mary Lennox in The Secret Garden brings out the Creator/Healer aspect. Mary Poppins shows us the mystical, magical side of the Heavenly Mother. Adding these qualities to a motherless family or society can indeed be transforming.

Carol Lynn Pearson sees herself as a player in the great drama of welcoming back the Heavenly Mother to our culture. She has a much more positive outlook on this process than I do. Carol Lynn says that history is on our side, and we can afford to be gracious. She says that although it is not easy for the patriarchy to watch the transformation, we "need to apply our best most charming most beautiful, most inviting selves into the venture. Because a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down in a most delightful way."

In my personal struggle with the Patriarchal Church, I haven't found my most charming, beautiful, inviting self to have much of an influence. I find that this charming self is often discounted and easily overruled. One of the questions asked at the end of Carol Lynn's Sunstone session where she presented this talk was, "Whatever is going on between the sexes involves a lot of mystery and chaos. Why does there have to be so much misery between the sexes?" This is one of my questions. As a woman, I see that I am able to be a calming and healing influence most often by capitulating and apologizing. I am not sure this is the best atmosphere for the Divine Feminine to emerge.

How can we move out of Patriarchy toward partnership?

Heavenly Mother and Mary Poppins

(Fourth post in the Heavenly Mother series inspired by Carol Lynn Pearson's "Mary Poppins and the Return of God the Mother.")

The Banks family in the film "Mary Poppins" is a very rigid patriarchy. Things are kept shipshape. It’s a man’s world, it's the age of men. Mr. Banks (who works at the bank) is the patriarchal leader of the home. Mrs Banks is not a presence in the household. She is a suffragette, and physically she is gone a great deal. A new nanny is being sought at 17 Cherry Tree Lane. As in the previous films, the children know what is needed. They make an advertisement and it wafts up the chimney like a little prayer. It ascends to heaven and the wind changes. Down from heaven comes the holy magical woman.

Don't worry, readers, Julie Andrews is not really Heavenly Mother in disguise! Perhaps she is a witch. Carol Lynn Pearson tells us that that is what we call any woman who is powerful.


I have known members of the patriarchy to react in fear toward a strong woman. I often wonder if it is fear which motivates the suppression of Heavenly Mother and those who seek to know more about her.

Mary Poppins becomes the new nanny and takes over the household. Carol Lynn notes that from her handbag come things that are rich in symbolism. In her talk she says she has no time to discuss these in detail. This piques my curiosity. It's been a while since I saw "Mary Poppins." Does anyone know what came out of the purse? I'd love to discuss the symbolism of these objects.

Dick Van Dyke is the masculine counterpart to the patriarchy. We have lots of men like him. He is a delight. He is free, extrovertive, uninhibited, supportive. Perhaps he is a bit irresponsible. You will notice that "Bert" is not an overly masculine character. He sings, he dances, he floats in the air. Carol Lynn tells us that our society is out of balance in the masculinity department. She quotes Alan Alda saying that we are suffering from "testosterone poisoning."

Mary Poppins brings warmth, joy, and fun into the Banks family. If feminism is not more fun than patriarchy, Carol Lynn submits, why bother? Mary's activities are noticed. Mr. Banks is not pleased. The female brain produces more cooperation than competition. This is just what the household needs, but patriarchy is losing control. Here is this person with chaos in her wake. Chaos theory is a necessary next step to a different higher order. Mr. Banks calls it moral disintegration. When Michael wants to give his tuppence to the birds and not invest it, Mr. Banks is furious. Bert says, "Your father is a fine gentleman. There he is in a cold bank, I don’t like to see anything caged up." Carol Lynn points out that patriarchy has put a lot of men in cages.

Mary Poppins asks the children, "Do you think father needs our help?" This is the final step in the transformation of the patriarchy in the Banks home. The children come in and give love to him as they can. Our patriarchy is shaken. Carol Lynn advocates this as an important step in revolutionizing the patriarchal system of things. She explains, "I am not saying no marches, no civil disobedience or whatever is your style, but let us not forget the simple gesture of love is important."

Thus it comes to pass that Mr. Banks offends the sour dour patriarchy in all of their extreme. He is cast out, he is excommunicated. He has nothing to say to their reprimands--except “supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.” He sings and dances his way out of the bank. He has given himself over to a new teacher. The wind has come around. Seeing the transformation in the family, Mary has finished her work and ascends.

I am especially interested in the reactions of my readers to the idea of the patriarchy's fear of a strong woman. Are any of you men uncomfortable identifying with the characters of Dicken in "The Secret Garden" and Bert in "Mary Poppins?" Do you feel uncomfortable with a man choosing a supportive and building role to a strong woman's vision?

*Yet to come--Carol Lynn Pearson's questions and conclusions on the subject of the Divine Feminine.

Heavenly Mother and The Secret Garden

The Secret Garden was one of my favorite books as a little girl, and I read it to my own girls when I grew up. Carol Lynn Pearson says she first recognized this story as an allegory of the Heavenly Mother when she saw the play on Broadway. Again we have a home that is motherless. Archibald Craven has lost his wife and is desolate. He will not see people, and he leaves his house and his young son every spring because it reminds him of his lost love. Carol Lynn identifies this as the kind of grief the kabbalah reminds us that God is in without the Shekinah. The curtains are closed. Mother nature is banished from the home. A picture of the mother is draped and hidden from view.

An interesting aspect of this home is another female figure, the housekeeper Medlock. She is a woman who is invested in supporting the status quo.

Into this sad patriarchal household comes Mary Lennox, a 10-year-old whose mother was the twin sister of Archibald's wife. She is a troublemaker. She turns the household upside down. Mary laments that the house seemed dead, it seemed like a spell had been cast upon it. She goes into the mother’s room that had been locked and she finds a key. "There are keys you are not supposed to mess around with," says Carol Lynn.

There are some other similarities that Carol Lynn didn't mention that I'd like to bring out. In the Church we have made the Divine Female so sacred that she is to all intents and purposes a "secret." Like any family secret, we all know she is there, but we are told not to discuss her, not to pray to her, not to seek her.

Mary discovers the mother’s private beautiful garden. No one has been in it for ten years. She uses her stolen key which opens the door. I find this remarkably analogous to the knowledge that we have a Heavenly Mother which was brought to us through the lovely song "O My Father" written by Eliza R. Snow. Her words speak of "the key of knowledge" which restores to us our knowledge that we "have a Mother there."

In the secret garden, Mary sees one shoot growing. Carol Lynn says, "I looked around and saw the concept of the divine mother dead except for a little shoot here and there. Maybe it’s not completely dead. In my heart, the feminine has not been buried, it has been planted, and it is growing and greening."

Carol Lynn describes how Mary makes friends with Dicken and they tend the garden. Boys have their role to play in these dramas, as we will see when we discuss the next film. Colin comes to life. “Maybe I’m not ill,” he says. A prayer circle is held by the children to call the father back. He hears, and returns home. He finds the son is not in his bed. The portrait is unveiled, light is coming into the room. Medlock says the girl has caused havoc. A girl is out of control, what are we going to do? The father says to Mary, “you brought us back to life. You did something I thought no one could do.”

Carol Lynn's concluding remarks to this story show great enthusiasm. "What a day it will be when our patriarchy looks at the garden we have brought to bloom and they say thank you for making the mother’s garden grow. We will never close it up again," she exults. I wonder how Carol Lynn would feel about this statement today. In the '80's and '90's I too felt that the knowledge of a female counterpart to God was growing and becoming more important in the lives of Latter-day Saints. In my lifetime I have seen this excitement quashed, the key taken, and the garden locked up again.

Heavenly Mother and the Sound of Music

In her 1998 talk previously referenced, Carol Lynn Pearson compares several well-known movies to the problem of Heavenly Mother in the LDS Church. She states that people everywhere have a universal longing to know of the Divine Female, and this is reflected in popular culture. In passing, she mentions "Peter Pan"--who "needs a mother so bad that he goes out and steals one!" But the first movie she really analyzes in her talk is "The Sound of Music."


Carol Lynn describes the setting of this film as a sad, militaristic patriarchal household. Discipline is the order of the day, imposed by the “Captain.” Titles and the military are important in patriarchal thought, Carol Lynn observes. Into this situation comes the magical woman. Down from the hills, the holy woman, right out of the convent. She is a troublemaker. The captain is not pleased. She brings a female presence into the household. She sings of very feminine things. She works her magic with the children. The children sing the song that Maria taught them, and Captain is amazed “You brought music back into the house. I'd forgotten. Please stay.” To this Carol Lynn comments, "What a day it will be when our patriarchy says, 'You’ve brought the feminine back into the house, I’d forgotten, please stay.'" In her recounting of this story, Carol Lynn seems to see Maria as symbolic of both the Heavenly Mother and symbolic of those in the Church who work to see her recognized as a valid and vital reality in Mormon theology. These women (and men, sometimes) are troublemakers. Their goal is to bring the Divine Feminine to the forefront, where the entire Church can feel her effect upon them.

Soon the Spirit of the Feminine is banished from the Von Trapp household. Her loss is sorely felt. The children go to the abbey to get her back. Says Carol Lynn: "Children should not be passive when they need their mother back. I have a right to knock on any door and demand my mother back." I am continually surprised and delighted to observe how Carol Lynn gets away with saying things like this. Many others have been disciplined for less. I know I'd never be able to get away with a statement like that. Readers, what do you think protects Carol Lynn from the watchful eye of the patriarchy? Is it a good relationship with local leadership? Is it her admired public persona?


At the conclusion of "The Sound of Music" the organ plays a wedding melody, which segues into “how do you solve a problem like Maria?" We now know that instead of being the problem, Maria is the answer. Carol Lynn asks her audience: "How do you solve a problem like Lavina? Or Janice? You love them, allow them, support them-- helping to transform the patriarchal household into a partnership." I often wonder how this could have been done. How could Lavina's and Janice's and Margaret's ideas been integrated and supported and loved by a patriarchal leadership? What a fascinating era it would be to even today have the voices of these intelligent spiritual women heard in the mainstream Church. Having rubbed shoulders for a small time with each of them, I recognize their strivings to have the Spirit guide their lives and their teachings as much as the majority of male leaders I have encountered.

As the film ends, the "fatherland" calls, but the Captain has now been enlightened. He recognizes the value and power of a combined male/female unit. He has greater resources, and with the help of the Holy Woman, he and his family climb the mountain to freedom. Carol Lynn ends her exposition on this film with these words: "I invite the patriarchy to fall in love with me and I promise to be a devoted and useful partner."

(Succeeding posts will address Carol Lynn's thoughts on "The Secret Garden" and "Mary Poppins.")

Life in a Motherless House

This week I received my tape of Carol Lynn Pearson's talk, "Mary Poppins and the Return of God the Mother" from the 1998 Sunstone Symposium. In the talk she speaks of the Church as a "motherless house." Carol Lynn says that she has found that the longing for a Divine mother is a universal hunger which pops up in the collective unconscious often. To illustrate this she mentions several well known films which speak of the transforming of the patriarchal family through the receiving of the divine magical woman. I plan to outline Carol Lynn's conclusions about these films, but first I would like to ask a question of any males that happen across this blog. Do you feel the lack of a mother figure in our Church? We have a Heavenly Father, and we have a "father of the ward" (bishop), both of whom are heavily involved in our daily lives. It is to the Heavenly Father that we pray several times a day. It is the Bishop who gives us the callings which often define us and take up so much of our time. We are told that we have a Heavenly Mother, but that we need not strive to know her personally. We have women who affect us and teach us in Primary, but after the age of 12, males have no further contact with women in the Church as authority figures nor are women Church leaders available to them for guidance or counsel (as men are available to women in the Church). Do you feel that this constitutes a "motherless house?" Do you ever feel longings for a spiritual feminine?

More about Carol Lynn's talk to come!

Thinking Blogger Award

I'm so thrilled that Jana tagged me as a "Thinking Blogger."

Now I have to choose 5 (and only 5) blogs that make me think. This is going to be hard because I only visit blogs that make me think.

I Sit and Think
by J.R.R. Tolkien

I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall never see.

For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.

And now, for the winners....

1. Mind on Fire
John Remy never fails to make me think. I've enjoyed his courage in sharing his spiritual journey, I like his focus on philosophy and theology blended with activism. I agree with his yearnings toward pacifism and environmentalism. One of the things you must check out on this blog is the Wednesday Challenge. This ranges from naming the 192 member countries in the U.N. to taking a shower!

2. The Fire Sermon
I've followed Johnny since I first started blogging. First he was "The Mormon Left," then "Zarathustra and Me," and who knows what incarnation we will find him in next! His existential angst really appeals to my heart and soul, and I want to be there when he finally finds the answer to all things.

3. Mormon Stories
The third John who has captured my imagination is John Dehlin. Always causing a controversy in the Bloggernacle, and apparently, in his Stake! I started reading Mormon Stories after his funny, funny presentation at Sunstone. His interviews are down-home, refreshing, and sensitive. And they make me think! Right now we're all anxiously awaiting the promised "Pink Stories."

4. Zelophehad's Daughters
It didn't say in the rules that I couldn't pick group blogs. This is one upon which I can bestow the great honor of a "thinking blog." I read it daily, and I'm always enriched when there is a new post. Eve is hereby named as the Chosen One to respond to this award! Her poetry and poetic nature always appeals to me.

5. New Cool Thang
This blog not only makes me think, but sometimes I feel I am about to bust a brain cell trying to follow what they are talking about! If you get hooked on this blog, like I am, you'll soon find yourself reading lots of Blake Ostler and Journal of Discourses, and scribbling notes about the theology of the atonement in the margins of your scriptures! I don't know if anyone over there reads me, but if you discover that you have been tagged, I would love for Jacob, a blogger I greatly admire, to write the response.


For those I tagged, please read the following rules...
The Thinking Blogger Award is also a meme. The participation rules are simple:

1. If you get tagged, write a post with links to five blogs that make you think.
2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme.
3. (Optional) Proudly display the "Thinking Blogger Award" with a link to the post that you wrote.

Mormon Dress Code

Last week Jana blogged about how intimidating the LDS men and how worldly the LDS women appeared after not having attended her local ward for some time.

I took stock of my Vernal ward today, to see how well we adhered to the Mormon Dress Code. (see results, comment #29) Here is what I wore to Church:


(the dangly earrings I wore are pinned to the lapel.)

As I commented at pilgrimgirl, the Mormon dress code is not hard to learn. You can do it in one Sunday. For men, conservative dark suits or white shirts, ties, and slacks. For women, skirt suits, skirts and conservative dressy tops, or tent dresses for larger women.

As you can see, my choices of clothing usually represent an attempt to blend in and appear to be conservative and non-threatening. Considering the subtle disapproval one receives for not following this unwritten protocol, it interests me to assess the motivation of one who chooses not to comply. Why do certain Mormon males grow a beard or wear patterned shirts to Sacrament Meeting? Is it mere comfort that prompts a woman to wear pants to Church, or is it a rebellious streak? Is the wearing of clothing that differs from the norm an attempt to show individuality? Do you feel judged or marginalized because of your clothing choices?

What did you wear to Church on Sunday?

What's on Your Nightstand?

My Nightstand:
Lamp
Clock Radio
Framed Picture of myself at age 18 months
A pencil, pen, and red marking pencil
Picture of my daughter and her date at prom
Sharing time activity
Friend Magazine April 2007
Dialogue Magazine Spring 2007
Notepad with poems
Notepad with Hebrew notes
Sunday School Study Guide
2 Triple combinations
Teachings of Presidents of the Church--Wilford Woodruff
Books: Hannibal, Hannibal Rising, A Deadly Hand, The Plot Against America, Rough Stone Rolling, Harmonizing Isaiah, Patterns of Poetry, A Student's Vocabulary of Biblical Hebrew, Liber Jesaiae (Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia), Gileadi's The Apocalyptic Book of Isaiah, Biblical Hebrew Workbook.
A friend's completed manuscript I am editing
List of emails of aerobics ladies
Cinderella playing cards


DH's Nightstand:
Lamp
Three pens, four pencils
Three popsicle sticks & a popsicle wrapper
Tube of Ben-Gay
Watch
Foot massager
Individual flossers
Vernal Temple Schedule
Duracell watch battery
Kool-Aid Chapstick
Lotion
Teachings of Presidents of the Church--Spencer W. Kimball
Replacement Lightbulb
Newspaper clipping of his most recent article
6 Coupons
Lifeguard whistle (that's mine!)
(in the magazine rack): Ensign magazine for the past 6 months, several recent issues of Time, Newsweek, US News & World Report, Sunstone (that's mine!) Better Homes & Gardens garden book, Beautiful Gardens, A Father's Legacy, Preparing to Enter the Holy Temple pamphlet (25 copies), audiovisual cable.

Word of the Day

Insipid
anemic, anesthetized, apathetic, arid, banal, beige, blah, bland, boring, bromidic, characterless, cloying, colorless, common, commonplace, conventional, dead, distasteful, drab, dreary, driveling, drudging, dry, dull, feeble, flat, flavorless, hackneyed, inane, innocuous, insipid, interminable, irksome, jejune, lackluster, lifeless, limp, monotonous, moth-eaten, mundane, namby-pamby, nebbish, nothing, nowhere, ordinary, pablum, pedestrian, phlegmatic, plain, platitudinous, plebeian, pointless, prosaic, prosy, routine, savorless, slight, soft, spiritless, square, stagnant, stale, stodgy, stupid, subdued, tame, tedious, tenuous, thin, tired, tripe, trite, unappetizing, unexciting, unpalatable, unsavory, unimaginative, unmemorable, unpassioned, vacuous, vapid, watery, weak, weariful, wearisome, wiped out, wishy-washy, yawn, zero.

My Monologue

I thought I'd share my Vagina Monologue, written in 2002. I double dog dare you (women) out there to write one!

When I lived in Hawaii, my best friend and next-door neighbor ws 65. "When I look in the mirror, I see this face," she said, "but this is not me. I don't feel any different than when I was 18." My neighbor and I became buddies and confidantes. We talked about the Church, the world, our families, and sex. It was surprising to me that sex was still a big deal when you were 65. I was 29, I had four children ages 4 and under, and sex was low on my list of priorities.

Things hadn't started out that way. When I was growing up in the sixties and seventies, my parents were involved in polyamory. My mother had a long-term relationship with a well-known black minister when I was a child. Then in my teen years, a young divorcee named Linda came to live with our family. My parents also had several shorter relationships over the years. I didn't exactly appreciate sharing my parents' time and emotional energy with other people, and this tended to make me more cautious about forming my own relationships. In college I joined the LDS Church at age 19 and was more determined than ever to save sexual relations for marriage. However, I had grown up with a very open attitude toward sex ad felt that I had healthy feelings about my body and my sexuality.

I served a mission, met my husband at BYU, and married in the Temple. Our intimate relationship was spiritual, loving, and fun. It was also very connected with our religious attitudes. We wanted to have children right away. Although non-member relatives urged us to enjoy each other for a while before we had kids, we felt a great proscription against using birth control of any kind. (year: 1983) Children came quickly, as did Church responsibilities and employment obligations for my husband. Money did not come quickly. We were poor, overcommitted, and stressed-out. My husband, who grew up in an abusive situation, struggled for many years with controlling his temper.

One day my friend and I were lying on the beach in Hawaii, children digging in the sand all around us. She turned to me with anguish on her face. "I can't make love to my husband when we are in a fight," she said. "It makes me feel like a prostitute!" I gazed at her fondly, trying not to laugh. It was impossible to associate that word with her sweet, lined, pixie face. But I understood the feelings behind the words all too well. My husband and I were growing further apart, and with the emotional distance I felt a need to back away physically also. How could he hurt my body one minute, then touch me intimately the next? The dichotomy was incomprehensible.

As I reached my thirties, my conception of myself as a woman began to expand. I began to see a dimension of my spirituality in terms of my sexuality. I noticed that a man's relationship with his Father God was different than that of a woman's. The Mormon male relates to a male Deity as a role model and something to aspire to. A woman does not, though she is told that she will one day be a goddess. Much has been revealed about the characteristics and roles of our Heavenly Father. But we have no clear conception of the attributes of the female aspect of Deity. As a woman, my relationship with my Heavenly Father was one of supplicant, rather than heir.

Because of my early influences outside of the Church, I never saw myself as anything other than an empowered woman. Therefore my struggles to define my relationship with the Father God were efforts to connect and illuminate rather than to cast off any perceived oppression. This paralleled the "marital dance" I was performing with my husband, as we sought to pattern our steps into a pleasing promenade. The years it took to elucidate myself as a feminine being were painful and distressing. A crippling depression following the birth of my fifth child blighted an entire year and threatened the fragile stability of our family. But Medea rose from the sea, water flowing from her shining skin.

As I again became aware of my surroundings, I noticed what I had not perceived since puberty. It was a sexual force flowing from my inner being. I thought of this force as being held tightly in a box inside the center of my body. I could crack open the lid and let a little of it escape. Men began to notice me and make excuses to touch me. I knew this force could become a raging fire and blaze quickly out of control. So after a while, I carefully closed the lid of the box, hugging the secret to myself. Besides, fifteen years of pregnancy and nursing with nary a month between to call my body my own bound my sexuality all up with motherhood.

One day I was in the Temple and I kept catching the eye of a young woman who was watching me. After the session, she approached me and we had a little chat. She asked me how many children I had. I told her I had eight children. She said she knew I had many children, because I radiated "Mother in Zion." I went home and looked at myself in a mirror. Most of my wrinkles were laugh lines, so they didn't look too bad. But my chin was definitely saggier. I held my arms out to my sides and jiggled them. No "Relief Society arms" just yet. My breasts were O.K.--round and soft. Legs were in good shape. No varicose veins after eight children, and despite an hereditary propensity! I was pleased with that. Problem area: my stomach. It was a mess. Stretch marks from my rib cage to my lover abdomen traversed rolls of fat. No wonder we no longer made love with the light on! I knew that my husband liked to look at me, but I couldn't bear for that stomach to be exposed. Yes, I had a "Mother in Zion" stomach.

A couple of years after that, I reached a landmark moment. "sister B.," a missionary said to me fondly, "you're so great. You remind me of my mom." No! His mom?? I reminded a missionary of his mom? I couldn't possibly be his mother. I would have had to have had a baby at age...well, twenty. I guess I could be his mom. In fact, his mother could be younger than I. What a horrifying thought. I was old enough to be the mother of a missionary.

That night, as I lay within the circle of my husband's arms I wondered if he realized that he was holding a woman old enough to be a missionary's mother. He turned to me and gently kissed my lips. I knew that the years had been kind to us. When he looked into my eyes he saw superimposed upon my face, the face of that young girl he had married. I knew that the wrinkles and the stretch marks had become phantoms compared with the stronger, younger spirit within me. Tender feelings stirred me as I held him to my breast. Then heat began to rise between us, for after all, inside I didn't feel ny different than when I was eighteen.

Saying the "V" Word

Last week, a public high school in New York suspended three girls for saying the word "Vagina" during a talent show-type event. The girls were performing exerpts from "The Vagina Monologues." "It wasn't crude and it wasn't inappropriate and it was very real and very pure," one of the students said. I must say I was surprised at the school's reaction to the word. It was very different from my daughter's experience at her Houston high school. In one of the health classes offered there, a teacher was notorious for making the students shout "Penis!" and "Vagina!" at the top of their lungs many many times on the very first day of class. When my daughter first came home with a report of this, I must admit I was taken aback. But as I thought about it I soon realized that the teacher was laying the foundation for the teenagers to be able to have frank, open, articulate discussions about a sensitive topic. Once the teens were able to say the words without embarrassment, they were better able to learn the subject matter.

Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't stand up in Relief Society during Opening Exercises, and, instead of reciting the RS Declaration, have the Sisters yell the words "Penis!" and "Vagina!" I am concerned that few women know how to talk to their sons and daughters about sex, about issues of birth control, masturbation, or even preparation for married life.

At some point following the production of Eve Ensler's "The Vagina Monologues," a group of Mormon women wrote their own version of the Vagina Monologues and titled it "Sacred Spaces." It was presented at the 2001 Sunstone West Symposium in San Francisco. I'll admit here that I did not attend either the Broadway or the Mormon version, but I have read both. "Sacred Spaces" is a lovely and poignant collection of Mormon women's experiences with sex and discovering their bodies in a religious context. A few quotes from the pieces follow:

"My sexuality (perhaps my experience as a woman) can be summed up as my desire to please."

"I try to reach out to this stranger, my husband, and realize he is far gone. I find I am made of the hardest steel. Nothing to soften me. I crave sweet kisses. I crave the touch of hands caressing my body. I need to be vulnerable somewhere. I am the pivot point for everyone in my life."

"I was not raised Mormon, but it doesn't matter that much. I was raised American. I was raised Christian. I was more than a little embarrassed about nakedness from the time I was old enough to recognize what it was."

"While she had the marriages and the children, I carried around the same reproductive equipment but didn't use it. Sometimes I fantasized that it would be more convenient if I could just detach it, like a computer peripheral, and plug it back in should I happen to need it."

Several days after reading the collection, I wrote my own "Vagina Monologue." In a brave act of consciousness-raising, I brought it with me to my Book Club night. I told the women we should all write our own monologues, even if we didn't share them. None of the women took me up on the offer. One of my friends stated, "I don't think of myself as having those parts. I think of myself as being from the neck up!" I thought this was rather sad for someone who had been married 16 years and had 4 children.

I wonder if the newer generation of Mormon women will be as conflicted about their sexuality. I wonder what they will do with the disconnect between what they are taught at school and through popular culture, and what they are taught at Church. I wonder if they will ever feel the need to say the "V word" at a school talent show.

Ron Paul on "Just War" Theory

from Ron Paul before the U.S. House of Representatives, 6/29/06. Hat tip to Connor.

"...Policy changes in wartime are difficult, for it is almost impossible for the administration to change course since so much emotional energy has been invested in the effort. That’s why Eisenhower ended the Korean War, and not Truman. That’s why Nixon ended the Vietnam War, and not LBJ. Even in the case of Vietnam the end was too slow and costly, as more then 30,000 military deaths came after Nixon’s election in 1968. It makes a lot more sense to avoid unnecessary wars than to overcome the politics involved in stopping them once started. I personally am convinced that many of our wars could be prevented by paying stricter attention to the method whereby our troops are committed to battle. I also am convinced that when Congress does not declare war, victory is unlikely.

The most important thing Congress can do to prevent needless and foolish wars is for every member to take seriously his or her oath to obey the Constitution. Wars should be entered into only after great deliberation and caution. Wars that are declared by Congress should reflect the support of the people, and the goal should be a quick and successful resolution.

Our undeclared wars over the past 65 years have dragged on without precise victories. We fight to spread American values, to enforce UN resolutions, and to slay supposed Hitlers. We forget that we once spread American values by persuasion and setting an example – not by bombs and preemptive invasions. Nowhere in the Constitution are we permitted to go to war on behalf of the United Nations at the sacrifice of our national sovereignty. We repeatedly use military force against former allies, thugs we helped empower – like Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden – even when they pose no danger to us...

How have the 2,500 plus deaths, and the 18,500 wounded, made us more free? What in the world does Iraq have to do with protecting our civil liberties here at home? What national security threat prompted American’s first pre-emptive war? How does our unilateral enforcement of UN resolutions enhance our freedoms?...

Some of the strongest supporters of the war declare that we are a Christian nation, yet use their religious beliefs to justify the war. They claim it is our Christian duty to remake the Middle East and attack the Muslim infidels. Evidently I have been reading from a different Bible. I remember something about “Blessed are the peacemakers.”

My beliefs aside, Christian teaching of nearly a thousand years reinforces the concept of “Just War Theory.” This Christian theory emphasizes six criteria needed to justify Christian participation in war. Briefly the six points are as follows:

War should be fought only in self-defense;
War should be undertaken only as a last resort;
A decision to enter war should be made only by a legitimate authority;
All military responses must be proportional to the threat;
There must be a reasonable chance of success; and
A public declaration notifying all parties concerned is required.
The war in Iraq fails to meet almost all of these requirements. This discrepancy has generated anger and division within the Christian community.

Some are angry because the war is being fought out of Christian duty, yet does not have uniform support from all Christians. Others are angry because they see Christianity as a religion as peace and forgiveness, not war and annihilation of enemies.

Constitutional and moral restraints on war should be strictly followed...

The solution to this mess is not complicated; but the changes needed are nearly impossible for political reasons. Sound free market economics, sound money, and a sensible foreign policy would all result from strict adherence to the Constitution. If the people desired it, and Congress was filled with responsible members, a smooth although challenging transition could be achieved. Since this is unlikely, we can only hope that the rule of law and the goal of liberty can be reestablished without chaos.

We must move quickly toward a more traditional American foreign policy of peace, friendship, and trade with all nations; entangling alliances with none. We must reject the notion that we can or should make the world safe for democracy. We must forget about being the world’s policeman. We should disengage from the unworkable and unforgiving task of nation building. We must reject the notion that our military should be used to protect natural resources, private investments, or serve the interest of any foreign government or the United Nations. Our military should be designed for one purpose: defending our national security. It’s time to come home now, before financial conditions or military weakness dictates it.

The major obstacle to a sensible foreign policy is the fiction about what patriotism means. Today patriotism has come to mean blind support for the government and its policies. In earlier times patriotism meant having the willingness and courage to challenge government policies regardless of popular perceptions.

Today we constantly hear innuendos and direct insults aimed at those who dare to challenge current foreign policy, no matter how flawed that policy may be. I would suggest it takes more courage to admit the truth, to admit mistakes, than to attack others as unpatriotic for disagreeing with the war in Iraq."

Read the entire talk here, and let me know what you think. Connor said that this article convinced his mom that the war in Iraq was wrong and that we should leave. Did it convince you?

Mideast Muddle

I'm still considering World Peace today--I read an article from the top news stories of today entitled, "Jordan's King Urges U.S. to Work on Mideast Peace." For a moment I was thrilled, but as my eyes quickly scanned the article, I realized that King Abdullah was calling for the United States to become more involved in the Middle East. I continue to contemplate the wisdom in our continued presence in Iraq as a peacekeeping measure. Abdullah addressed a recent joint meeting of Congress(which has been searching for ways to diminish the U.S. involvement in Iraq). He pled that the U.S. has an "unrivaled" potential to help with the core problem in the area; the Palestinian-Israeli conflict.

Coincidentally, several hours after reading this article I came across the following quotation by Gordon B. Hinckley:

"I have often thought that if great numbers of the women of all nations were to unite and lift their voices in the cause of peace, there would develop a worldwide will for peace which could save our civilization and avoid untold suffering, misery, plague, starvation and the death of millions."

I wish President Hinckley could have been a bit more specific as to what our voices could say or how we could unite together to effect this change. My personal desire would be to send thousands of Americans to the Middle East as a true "peacekeeping force"--without guns or ammunition but with medical supplies, textbooks, love and reason. Just to roam about the country spreading ideals and goodwill. What a dumb plan, right? I would volunteer to do this. I don't know how many others could be persuaded.

Still waiting and watching to be led...

Another "I Put on Black"

This poem, written by Rebecca del Rio-Ruso is a stirring protest of war using the same imagery I used in my poem "I Put on Black."

DE LUTO

El día que lanzaron el bombardeo (digo ellos,
porque nosotros no tenemos bombas,)
me vestí de luto.

Doble y metí en un pliegue el rojo, el amarillo, la ira y puse
La esperanza en su lugar. Almacené el verde, el azul, la anticipación,
Y el deseo en un rinconcito lindo.

El día que lanzaron el bombardeo (digo ellos,
Porque nosotros no tenemos bombas,)
apilé el verde oliva, el marrón,
La serenidad y el reposo en el tocador
Y me vestí de luto.

El día que se lanzaron el bombardeo (digo ellos,
Porque nosotros no tenemos bombas,)
me fijé mientras el naranja estalló
en estrellas espectaculares, como chispas de
Una hoguera del desierto. Almacene mis bufandas, mis pulseras,
Los amuletos y la risa.
Y me vestí de luto.

El día que se lanzaron el bombardeo
(digo ellos,
Porque nosotros no tenemos bombas,)
me absorbió del pecho
El aire en tragos tremendos,
tragos turquesa, fucsia,
De doloridos tonos morado.
Lo sentí cuando el aire giraba encima y
Me vestí de luto.

El día que lanzamos el bombardeo
(digo nosotros porque
Por mas que me rehusé lo hicieron en mi nombre)
Doblé la alegría como doblaría una tienda de campaña de los Bedoin,
Una carpa reluciente, de flequillo,
que ondula en la brisa del desierto
Y me vestí de luto.

Rebecca del Rio-Ruso
-------------------------------

IN BLACK

The day they started bombing (they, not we
Because we do not have bombs), I put on black.

I folded away red, yellow, rage, and
Hope. I tucked greens, blues, anticipation
And desire in a neat corner
And I put on black.

The day they started bombing (they, not we
Because we do not have bombs) I stacked olive, tan,
Quietude and rest in the cabinet.
And I put on black.

The day they started bombing (they, not we
Because we do not have bombs) I watched orange
Shower up in spectacular sparks like
A desert bonfire. I put away my scarves, silver bracelets,
Amulets and laughter.
And I put on black.

The day they started bombing (they, not we
Because we do not have bombs,) I felt
The air being sucked out of me
In great gulps of teal, fuchsia, pained
Shades of purple. I felt the air wheeling over as
I put on black.

The day we started bombing (we because no matter
How I refused, they used my name anyway)
I folded up joy, like a Bedouin's tent, bright,
Fringed and billowing and put on black.


Rebecca del Rio-Ruso

Prayer for Peace

Whenever something deeply affects me, it always seems to come out in poetry. I was moved by those who participated in fasting for peace on Sunday. I enjoyed the feeling of togetherness it brought. I was especially touched by John's post on the pathology of war. It responded to my concern that my small prayer was not likely to do much good.

A Prayer For Peace

Afar beyond the surging sea
In regions yet unknown to me
The jaws of war gape wild and wide;
A frightful beast.

The troubled, war-torn region lies
In shambles under sinking skies
Another wounded warrior dies
While others feast.

The heads of nations, bickering
Have set my candles flickering.
My heart cannot shut out the cries
Nor take my ease.

I fast, and put aside my meal,
A meager effort--meant to heal.
Will heaven heed my simple sighs?
Let conflict cease.

A pinprick in the conscience of
A nation so devoid of love
Is my petition, small in size:
A Prayer for Peace.

I'm glad that we were able to set aside a time to think about those personally affected by war, the hard decisions of national leaders, and peaceful endeavor. I feel ready to accept a bigger part in working for peace if it comes my way.

Give Peace a Chance

In a few hours, I'll start my fast for World Peace. I'm praying that leaders of the nations will increasingly consider nonviolent ways to solve conflicts. I'm glad that several people around the Bloggernacle will be joining me in a Vigil tomorrow, Sunday March 4, to promote peace.

I sent out about 50 emails to invite Mormon bloggers to participate in this effort. I was hoping that many of them would put something up on their site to pass the word. Those who posted on peace are featured in my sidebar. (If I missed you, let me know!) I didn't get much of a response among traditional Mormons. Almost everyone I sent emails to who responded to me or put something up on their blog were non-traditional or "post-Mormons." I found this interesting and a little disappointing, and can't help but wonder why.

Perhaps some "traditional" Mormon bloggers associated this effort with non-violent methods of achieving peace. Do Mormons on the whole support military force to defend their countries and keep their families safe? Comments I have received on this blog and read on other blogs seem to suggest this view.

Perhaps some did not respond because praying or fasting for peace seems ineffective. One little person or family and their prayers may not make much of a difference when stacked up against world leaders, nations, and nuclear weapons.

Some may have had more important or more interesting posts to make this week.

Or maybe my emails just went into their junk mail.

___________________


I invite you all to participate tomorrow in whatever way you feel comfortable; to pray, fast, or meditate for World Peace. Send me a comment and let me know how it went.