Due to some little bit surprising circumstances, my brother is back in town. I am so so happy that he is safe, that everything turned out ok. Also that he is here, that I get to see him now, like whenever I want (and he wants). I have missed that little dude.
I didn't even realize how much.
Here's a video of one time I taught him to tap dance.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Long Over Due Post: Why I Am Not a Mormon
Short answer, there are probably a ton of reasons:
Long answer: I know I never had the rock-solid belief that a lot of other people in my various congregations seemed to have. I didn't know if I believed, but I knew I wanted to believe in a benevolent, all-powerful, all-loving God who wasn't sexist or racist or arbitrary or believed in certain sexualities over others. Who was there when you needed him/her. Who helped you through the tough times. I prayed and prayed for that. For God to tell me even something as simple as Yes I validate your struggle, you are known and loved. I clung to the words that other people spoke of their own experiences. Searched everything I could find. Tried to train myself, my habits to be the kind of person who believed, who was worthy of the gift of faith. Who - to use the LDS phraseology - knew.
I don't know why, but I could never feel certain. And I could certainly never justify a lot of the horrible things that have been done in the name of my religion, and the religions it was based on. Never seem to have enough faith in the other stuff to let those bad things slide, or trust that they would be explained 'in the eternities'. And I didn't want to. That felt gravely wrong, terrifying.*
But I also didn't think that I should give up on the good in it. Didn't think my voice, my experiences should be discounted, just because I didn't fit the mold. At times, I thought maybe my role would be to help pave the way for other forms of belief, of living the religion, or to work against those bad things from within, trying to fight injustice where I found it while still attempting to fit in with the greater culture, to 'live in harmony with the gospel'. But let me tell you. That's kind of exhausting. I don't actually love conflict. I struggled on for what felt like a very long time.
And I had my little seedlings of faith and hope. I stumbled upon fiercely loving friends, gentle ones who listened to my teary confessions of doubt, ones who would discuss the complexities of what I was facing, who were maybe facing similar things, or who at least didn't trivialize either side of my conflict.
I came across ideas and principles that really resonated. Little bits here and there that made me feel larger, powerful, good... and gentle too. I created simple rituals for myself (and close friends who were interested) that reflected the beauty and order - and chaos too - around us in the seasons, in darkness and light, in quiet moments and joyful ones and painful ones. Hey, I figured. Joseph Smith could start a religion, why can't I? I carry those little seedlings with me still. And now, too, I love to snatch up those little bits that make you feel like your soul and body are a part of something bigger and like that deeper, wiser part of you knew this all along. They are taking root, getting stronger and sturdier.
Somewhere in this process, my little brother decided to go on a mission for the LDS church. I think I hadn't attended a service in awhile, but then on top of that, began spending Sundays afternoons having family time, hanging out, eating delicious food. A legit 'excuse' for people from my own congregation who might be concerned for my spiritual welfare. My parents went to their congregation in the morning with my little brother and littlest sister, and I didn't want to miss the family time to go to the one near me, so I just didn't go. After he left for his missionary service, I realized, I am happier, calmer, more peaceful when I don't go to church. So I didn't go back.
I have done and tried a lot of new things these past couple years now, most of them not even directly related to things that I wasn't "supposed" to do as a practicing Mormon. I just found myself saying "yes" to new things, new experiences, trying stuff I had never even thought to try before. And it has been good. I am challenging a lot of things I didn't even realize I was holding to so closely. For example, I went to a shooting range and fired a pistol for the first time. I don't love guns, but I have at least tried that now. The world has opened up before me. I feel safer and more confident in myself. I still only think I like 30-40% believe in God, but I do feel more settled and serene.
People from church - I try to remind myself, they are coming from a place of care and concern - have tried to encourage me to go back, to attend activities or meetings, to meet with leaders. I have had to learn to politely say "no thank you," to set my boundaries, and stick to them. To respect my own ability to make choices for my life to trust my decisions and understanding of what I want, and to demand that others respect that as well. This has been a good learning experience for me too.
I don't know what the future holds. I don't know if I will get married or have kids, if my path will lead me back toward the church my parents chose as a young couple with two children, or to a different church, or to some other path I can't even imagine. Maybe I'm actually ok with not knowing.
Maybe it is enough that I can tell myself, Yes I validate your struggle, you are known and loved.
*and probably even a lot of people within the religion would agree that I shouldn't go against that, but other people might also think a person struggling with such thoughts should pray more, read her scriptures more, just trust more
- Political ones
- Social ones
- Doctrinal ones
- Faith ones
- Creepy experiences with men in power ones
Long answer: I know I never had the rock-solid belief that a lot of other people in my various congregations seemed to have. I didn't know if I believed, but I knew I wanted to believe in a benevolent, all-powerful, all-loving God who wasn't sexist or racist or arbitrary or believed in certain sexualities over others. Who was there when you needed him/her. Who helped you through the tough times. I prayed and prayed for that. For God to tell me even something as simple as Yes I validate your struggle, you are known and loved. I clung to the words that other people spoke of their own experiences. Searched everything I could find. Tried to train myself, my habits to be the kind of person who believed, who was worthy of the gift of faith. Who - to use the LDS phraseology - knew.
I don't know why, but I could never feel certain. And I could certainly never justify a lot of the horrible things that have been done in the name of my religion, and the religions it was based on. Never seem to have enough faith in the other stuff to let those bad things slide, or trust that they would be explained 'in the eternities'. And I didn't want to. That felt gravely wrong, terrifying.*
But I also didn't think that I should give up on the good in it. Didn't think my voice, my experiences should be discounted, just because I didn't fit the mold. At times, I thought maybe my role would be to help pave the way for other forms of belief, of living the religion, or to work against those bad things from within, trying to fight injustice where I found it while still attempting to fit in with the greater culture, to 'live in harmony with the gospel'. But let me tell you. That's kind of exhausting. I don't actually love conflict. I struggled on for what felt like a very long time.
And I had my little seedlings of faith and hope. I stumbled upon fiercely loving friends, gentle ones who listened to my teary confessions of doubt, ones who would discuss the complexities of what I was facing, who were maybe facing similar things, or who at least didn't trivialize either side of my conflict.
I came across ideas and principles that really resonated. Little bits here and there that made me feel larger, powerful, good... and gentle too. I created simple rituals for myself (and close friends who were interested) that reflected the beauty and order - and chaos too - around us in the seasons, in darkness and light, in quiet moments and joyful ones and painful ones. Hey, I figured. Joseph Smith could start a religion, why can't I? I carry those little seedlings with me still. And now, too, I love to snatch up those little bits that make you feel like your soul and body are a part of something bigger and like that deeper, wiser part of you knew this all along. They are taking root, getting stronger and sturdier.
Somewhere in this process, my little brother decided to go on a mission for the LDS church. I think I hadn't attended a service in awhile, but then on top of that, began spending Sundays afternoons having family time, hanging out, eating delicious food. A legit 'excuse' for people from my own congregation who might be concerned for my spiritual welfare. My parents went to their congregation in the morning with my little brother and littlest sister, and I didn't want to miss the family time to go to the one near me, so I just didn't go. After he left for his missionary service, I realized, I am happier, calmer, more peaceful when I don't go to church. So I didn't go back.
I have done and tried a lot of new things these past couple years now, most of them not even directly related to things that I wasn't "supposed" to do as a practicing Mormon. I just found myself saying "yes" to new things, new experiences, trying stuff I had never even thought to try before. And it has been good. I am challenging a lot of things I didn't even realize I was holding to so closely. For example, I went to a shooting range and fired a pistol for the first time. I don't love guns, but I have at least tried that now. The world has opened up before me. I feel safer and more confident in myself. I still only think I like 30-40% believe in God, but I do feel more settled and serene.
People from church - I try to remind myself, they are coming from a place of care and concern - have tried to encourage me to go back, to attend activities or meetings, to meet with leaders. I have had to learn to politely say "no thank you," to set my boundaries, and stick to them. To respect my own ability to make choices for my life to trust my decisions and understanding of what I want, and to demand that others respect that as well. This has been a good learning experience for me too.
I don't know what the future holds. I don't know if I will get married or have kids, if my path will lead me back toward the church my parents chose as a young couple with two children, or to a different church, or to some other path I can't even imagine. Maybe I'm actually ok with not knowing.
Maybe it is enough that I can tell myself, Yes I validate your struggle, you are known and loved.
*and probably even a lot of people within the religion would agree that I shouldn't go against that, but other people might also think a person struggling with such thoughts should pray more, read her scriptures more, just trust more
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
On a Day of Love, Some Lessons from Being Sick
Being so sick makes you realize a lot of things. You might think you are an adult, but you get really sick and you feel just like a helpless little kid, like all you want is somebody to hug you, wipe your snotty little nose, say "it's gonna be okay, I'm here."
I am blessed to have kind loving people who care about me and will help me as soon as they know that I need help. Sometimes you just gotta ask for help.
Whether it is saying oh honey, giving me advice on the phone from another state, making me soup, bringing me food and DVDs, talking to me on the phone saying yes I will get better, helping me to clean, going to the store to get me medicine, patting my back, sending me nice texts and emails and well wishes on facebook - I have had people do all those things for me over the past week.
Another thing you realize. Every day of life is a gift, and your body is a miracle. You especially remember this when you can’t do normal actions you usually take for granted, like cook for yourself, clean your room, walk any distance further than like the bathroom, breathe freely, have a conversation without breaking down coughing, sleep through the night.
Sometimes things just take time. Waiting and doing the things you know are good to the best of your ability, sometimes that’s all you can do.
I love the put your face in a bowl of steam and cover with a towel treatment.
I went for a snowshoe hike Sunday with my coworkers in the White Mountains. I’d been planning/coordinating the hike for weeks (or even months) so, even though I was still pretty far from being better, I just went, because I’d been planning it and looking forward to it for so long, because being couped up inside was getting very old, and because I wanted to go, damnit. We hiked up the White Ledge Trail near Albany NH. A nice little 4.5-miler with some moderate elevation gain (1500’ or so) and some nice views. On the descent, amidst the trees, the sunlight shining bright on the snow, the views of frozen lakes powder-white at the bases of the other mountains around us, I thought to myself. This is holy. As holy to me as I once wanted going to church to be.
And God saw that it was Good. And I saw that it was Good too! Nothing like the fresh clear mountain air to clear your lungs and freshen your spirits.
Anyway, still fighting off the remnants of this beast. Hope to have fully beaten it in the next few days.
Maybe a little bit rambly, and not a super Valentines Day post, but I guess there are all kinds of love. And I am loved in many ways. I am loved.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Pupcakes anyone?
I was feeling in the mood to make something cheesy/crafty and thought "aha! groundhog cupcakes." Did a quick google image search for ideas and let me tell you, a lot of them are downright disturbing.
This one looks like a pedophile.
Mouse... with... dentures?
I'm meltinggggg.
Still looks like a peanut.
Just looks vaguely inappropriate.
Sweet mercy what is that thing??? Little poops with M&M eyes?
Finally I saw a link for these Punxsutawny Phil pudding pops from the Junior Society. Unfortunately, I was unable to access the original post, or the blog at all, so we may never know what Junior Society is or where they went. Since the Junior Society was MIA, I figured it would work with cupcakes too.
Nilla wafers for heads.
Almond slices for the ears.
I used yellow cake mix and made some chocolate buttercream frosting. Nutella used to fasten the ears and to draw the faces. They don't look 100% groundhog, more teddy bear almost, but I decided I would rather have cute, bear-like cupcakes than creepy, groundhog-like ones (and even the "groundhog-like" is questionable in many of the instances I came across).
This one looks like a pedophile.
Mouse... with... dentures?
I'm meltinggggg.
Still looks like a peanut.
Just looks vaguely inappropriate.
Sweet mercy what is that thing??? Little poops with M&M eyes?
Finally I saw a link for these Punxsutawny Phil pudding pops from the Junior Society. Unfortunately, I was unable to access the original post, or the blog at all, so we may never know what Junior Society is or where they went. Since the Junior Society was MIA, I figured it would work with cupcakes too.
Nilla wafers for heads.
Almond slices for the ears.
I used yellow cake mix and made some chocolate buttercream frosting. Nutella used to fasten the ears and to draw the faces. They don't look 100% groundhog, more teddy bear almost, but I decided I would rather have cute, bear-like cupcakes than creepy, groundhog-like ones (and even the "groundhog-like" is questionable in many of the instances I came across).
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Winter Learning
As you know, I attended one of the winter mountain workshops with the New Hampshire chapter of the AMC (in specific, I believe my class was called "intermediate winter wilderness travel" or something like that).
Left work early Friday and carpooled up with some other people who were attending from the Boston area. Had some classroom sessions and went out for some hikes with our groups on snowshoes, did a 2,900' or something the first day, and bushwhacked up to a smaller hill and over to an old cellar hole (where there used to be a house like a thousand years ago, probably less than that). We slept in a lodge in bunk beds. We ate a wooden tables in a dining hall with giant timber beams across the ceiling. Like probably 2' deep or something. Nothing like could be built now. I believe the lodge was built in the 20s or 30s, so there were still some big trees like that then. It was kind of paradise there. Got back Sunday evening and had a couple friends/family members over for a little birthday toast.
Things I learned (or did for the first time):
Things I learned (or remembered) about myself:
In a way it was like a dream too, so so so beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful. So much fun. And there wasn't anything to worry about really, they fed us, told us what to do, taught us what we needed to know. Really the main thing to worry about is not dying, and you do worry about that, a tiny bit, but only from time to time.
Which is more real? I guess all of it is IT IS ALL REAL.
Left work early Friday and carpooled up with some other people who were attending from the Boston area. Had some classroom sessions and went out for some hikes with our groups on snowshoes, did a 2,900' or something the first day, and bushwhacked up to a smaller hill and over to an old cellar hole (where there used to be a house like a thousand years ago, probably less than that). We slept in a lodge in bunk beds. We ate a wooden tables in a dining hall with giant timber beams across the ceiling. Like probably 2' deep or something. Nothing like could be built now. I believe the lodge was built in the 20s or 30s, so there were still some big trees like that then. It was kind of paradise there. Got back Sunday evening and had a couple friends/family members over for a little birthday toast.
Things I learned (or did for the first time):
- Learned the symptoms of hypothermia, what to do if something like that happens, what the biggest dangers or things to avoid are
- Carry extra set of socks, dry long underwear, in your pack
- Learned to read a compass/setting bearings
- Bushwhacking (going off the trail, just through the woods, using your map and compass to get from point A to point B)
- Saw where a moose had chewed the bark off of trees. The type of tree was called striped maple, I believe, but the nickname is moosewood, because they sure do love it.
- Saw snowshoe hare tracks
- Broke trail (this is very fun, basically you are walking in the front of the group, on the fresh snow, and you may or may not be finding the way to go, depending if you are following a trail or bushwhacking)
Things I learned (or remembered) about myself:
- I love being outside
- I love being active
- I love learning new skills
- I am excited to be the first to do something
- I like to notice things and try to figure out what is going on or what caused it to happen or be that way
- I'm not cold when I'm moving
In a way it was like a dream too, so so so beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful. So much fun. And there wasn't anything to worry about really, they fed us, told us what to do, taught us what we needed to know. Really the main thing to worry about is not dying, and you do worry about that, a tiny bit, but only from time to time.
Which is more real? I guess all of it is IT IS ALL REAL.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
The Sweetest Birthday Wishes, from My Mom...
Got this email in my inbox when I returned from my NH weekend. I think it might be the best happy birthday I got this year.
It really means something, coming from the person who has known you since you were born. Who actually made that happen (your birth). Who wiped your little butt and your snotty little nose and held your hair back while you barfed into the toilet and put up with you when you were acting like a little shit... who watched you grow through that super awkward phase (which you may or may not still be in), who loved you through it all and will continue to love you through it all.
Thanks Mom!
Hey Hi Birthday Girl!
Hope you're having a wonderful day snowshoeing around - we even got the snow that I special ordered JUST FOR YOU...
Getting out this AM put me in mind of the Saturday morning you were born - it was sooooooo cold that AM that by the time we got Kevin into & out of the car to the Guggios house [and we only had to take him at W______ Rd] and then on to Beth Israel hospital, my labor stopped - and it had been going strong for several hours. Fortunately when I 'thawed out' things kicked back into high gear and we had you .. ta-da here she is! I am so glad that we did; you have truly been a joy to me. I love your spirit and quirky-ness and joie de vivre and kind & generous & loving nature and exceptional, inquisitive mind and your creativity ...and so much more! I love you more than words can say. Happy Birthday, Katie.
It really means something, coming from the person who has known you since you were born. Who actually made that happen (your birth). Who wiped your little butt and your snotty little nose and held your hair back while you barfed into the toilet and put up with you when you were acting like a little shit... who watched you grow through that super awkward phase (which you may or may not still be in), who loved you through it all and will continue to love you through it all.
Thanks Mom!
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