I should have finished this post on Friday evening, June 15, 2012, when the experience happened. I have had promptings to finish it several times since then, but I, for some reason, have been either afraid to, or I have been avoiding it. I'm at a point now when I can't avoid it. I'm at a point now when I have to finish writing it for me, for my own sake, and for nobody else's. Please excuse me because I'm going to be writing stream of consciousness.
Like I said, the event happened on the evening of June 15, 2012. I went to a walking meditation class which was being taught by Anna Zumwalt. We met at the new Natural History Museum of Utah on the University of Utah Campus. It's a beautiful building overlooking the Salt Lake Valley. As I had never been there before, this was a new experience for me.
We started out the class with a little introduction and instructions, then we were off. I felt, instantly, that I needed to do a slow walking meditation and really take in the scenery instead of a fast walking meditation. I grew concerned, however, because the rest of the group was waking at a pace that was too fast for my liking. While they "sped" up the hill above the museum, I decided to stay on the trails just in front of the museum. I was concerned, however, that someone would think that there was something wrong with me and come down to make sure that I was OK. I was especially concerned that Anna would come down to make sure that I was OK. I correlated that to what everybody did when I decided that it was in my best interests to step away from the Church and explore what it's like to "be gay." I strayed away from the "accepted" social norm. I risked committing "spiritual suicide." All of my very loving and well-meaning friends made a point to make sure that I knew that the only way to be really happy was to live the standards of the gospel and endure to the end. They wanted to make sure that I knew exactly what it meant for me to turn away from the Church and "be gay." What they didn't understand was that this was a decision that I didn't take lightly. What they didn't understand was that I had spent literally months agonizing over that very idea, beating myself over the head with it. What they didn't understand was that I could talk my way around the doctrine surrounding both sides of the story so much that it made my head spin. What they didn't understand was that, even though the gospel was supposed to have been the only way to true happiness, happiness wasn't one of my predominate emotions. I only really, truly, felt happiness when I finally decided to allow myself to fall in love for the first time ever and have that love returned instead of running from it like any good bishop, stake president, or member of the Church would. What they didn't understand was that, up until that point, I thought that the only way that I was ever going to be really happy was after I passed through the vail. I did what I felt that I needed to do, just like, on this night, on June 15, 2012, stepping away from the crowd was exactly what I needed to do, and I'm glad that I did.
The first thing that I did was to look out over the valley. Now, I have never been enamored with the Salt Lake Valley. As a matter of fact, I think that it's quite ugly. I once heard the combined Salt Lake and Utah Valleys explained in this way. As you drive south down I-15 you see a letter "U" on the mountain over the University of Utah. You see a "G" on the mountain over Pleasant Grove, and you see a "Y" on the mountain over BYU. Someone once told me that there should be a "L" on the mountain over Lindon so as you travel south from Salt Lake to Prove it will spell "U-G-L-Y." Now, before you get too angry at me, you will have to understand that I grew up in the East. I grew up in Maine where there are many more trees than people. Heck, there are many more trees and mosquitoes than people. There are places in the North Maine Woods where you will drive for hours on dirt roads in the middle of nowhere and the only traffic that you will see is the occasional logging truck. And, my favorite color is green. The predominant color of the Salt Lake Valley is gray or brown. I hate brown. Before I moved to Salt Lake City, or even to BYUI, for that matter, I moved to Florida because it was so green. I can't stand New England winters because they are brown and gray six months out of the year. I wasn't equipped for the dry, arid climate in Salt Lake. I was also not equipped for the smog. And boy does Salt Lake have smog. It's so bad at times in the winter that you can't see a half a mile in front of you. They call it an "inversion." And the only way to get rid of it is with a snow storm or a wind storm. The eastern mountains are so large that they just trap in all of the pollutants and they only leave when they are snowed out of the sky. Now, they don't ever take pictures of the smog because they want everybody to think that Salt Lake is pretty and beautiful all year round, but, believe me, it's not. I like sun. If I go too long without seeing it, I get depressed.
So, enough complaining about Salt Lake, let's get back to the story. When I looked out over the valley I saw it from a different perspective. I had never seen it from this perspective and from this perspective it actually looked pretty. It actually looked beautiful. I saw that as a reflection of myself. I have spent my whole life thinking that I was ugly. I have spent my whole life hating the fact that I am attracted to guys, and that I'm fat. I have spent my whole life wanting to be someone other than who I really am. I have spent my whole life totally fixed on how different I feel from "normal" people. I do that even to this day. I hate the fact that I'm gay. I hate the fact that I can't change it. I still look at couples and say to myself, "what does he see in her?" I can't believe that men are naturally attracted to women, because I'm not. I have been attracted to, or perhaps noticed some women, but 9.9 times out of 10, when a couple walks by, I notice the guy first. Most of the time I don't even notice the woman.
What did this experience at the museum teach me? Well, it should have taught me to see myself from a new perspective. It should have taught me that I'm a beautiful person, regardless of what anybody thinks, says, or does, regardless of what I think, say, or do. It should have taught me to focus more on the big picture. Sure, the Salt Lake smells like death and has a bunch of flies around it when you get up close to it, but from a distance it really looks beautiful! hahaha! Sure, I may weigh more than I should and be attracted to men, but I'm a beautiful person. I'm kind, loving, devoted, fiercely loyal, determined, friendly, dependable, trustworthy, forgiving, easy to talk to, quick to forgive, courteous, determined (when the time is right), caring, etc., etc. I have even had people tell me that I'm good looking. One of them said, "Sure, [I'm] a little overweight, but [I've] got a lot to work with." That person is one of my favorite people. I'm going to make sure that he reads this post. Sure, are there ugly parts of me? Am I perfect? Are there things, like my weight and NOT my sexual orientation, that I would benefit from changing? Sure. But the lesson that I need to learn from the walking meditation that I did on June 25 is that I'm beautiful just the way that I am. Sure, life may not turn out exactly like I had planned. Sure, by this time in my life I was supposed to have been married, had a steady job, kids, a house, and a white picket fence. I would have never thought that I would be almost penniless and living with my mother, who I love and for whom I am extremely grateful. Although my life is not where I might want it to be, it is still beautiful. I still have great potential to touch other's lives for good, to show happiness to others, and to help others to feel happy. I think that's my mission, to show happiness to others and to help other people to be happy. That thought feels good. I think that I'll go with it.
Now, back to the narrative...after seeing the valley in a new light, I happened to look up in the sky. It was approaching dusk, so most of the oppressive heat of the day had gone away. When I looked up I was amazed at what I saw, dragonflies. Lots of dragonflies. I was standing over a grassy hill and the dragonflies were flying over the hill. I assume that they were feasting on all of the bugs that were just waking up for the evening. I looked at them and I thought, "Wow! They look happy. They don't look worried about anything. They don't look worried about what's going to happen to them after they die. They're just busy being dragonflies." You see, I have spent most of my adult life worried about my eternal salvation. I have spent most of my life worried if I was going to be able to make it to the Celestial Kingdom or not. I have spent most of my life trying to do exactly what I thought was expected of me in order to make it to the Celestial Kingdom, going to 3 hours of church a week, paying my tithing, reading my scriptures, doing my home teaching, attending the temple, serving in callings, and even trying to date women or at least trying to not fall in love with men. I avoided gay men like the plague. I never in my life, until I went to BYUI, had met a "gay Mormon." I thought that I was the only one who struggled with this horrible affliction. I avoided "acting out" with other men because I didn't want to put my eternal salvation at stake. What you don't realize was that I was so concerned about my eternal salvation that I was tempted to take steps to make eternity come quicker. I had had suicidal thoughts for years. It was the act of "acting out" with a man, the very same man who told me that I had "a lot to work with" that made me decide to stick around. I can't say that I'm out of the woods now, but I think that's why I'm finally sitting down and writing this post. I don't want to alarm anybody. I'm not going anywhere. But those thoughts are never far away. That's why this post is so important to me. I need to learn to see beauty in myself and learn how to live in the moment, to be happy in the now, and not be so worried about what might be or might have been. To not be so worried about what's going to happen to me after I die that I forget to take pleasure in what's happening in the here and the now. To be more like a dragonfly, and to be content to be a dragonfly and not try to be anything else.
Next I turned and looked up the hill. I saw that there were people walking on the side of the hill, but it looked like they were lost. It just looked like they were walking around and didn't know where they were going. It took me a while before I realized that they were probably walking on paths, but they weren't lost at all. It dawned on me that I was at a perspective that I couldn't see the path because I was too low. If I had been at their level or above them, then I would have been able to see the path. Then I thought of 1 Nephi 8: 28 in The Book of Mormon which reads, "And after they had tasted of the fruit they were ashamed, because of those that were scoffing at them; and they fell away into forbidden paths and were lost," and thought to myself, "well, they're (the people on a hill) still on a path. They know what path they're on, and so does God. Just because I don't know what path that they're on doesn't mean that God doesn't as well. No one is truly lost to God because he knows exactly where his children are. We may not see where they are because of our perspective, but he knows exactly what path they're on. And even though those paths may seem odd to us, they may be exactly where he wants them to be. They may not be odd to him or to them at all, so why worry?"
So, there it is. I finally did it. I did what I have been avoiding for such a long time. I actually feel better because this weekend has been kinda tough. I feel lighter now. I understand that there may be some of you who may disagree with my conclusions. Please remember, they are mine. I feel that they are inspiration to me. I understand that some of my conclusions may not be "doctrinally sound," you're welcome to your opinions. Again, this is my experience, not yours. And while I may still suffer from bouts of depression, I have a hope that things will get better. But I don't know if you can understand where I'm coming from. I never really took the time to figure out what I believed. I never really took the time to figure out what I liked or what I wanted to do in life. I never really took the time to figure out who I was and what made me tick. I just took it for granted that I was a child of God. I just took for granted that I was to do whatever it took to have a family and live the kind of life that I thought that God wanted me to live. That kind of family is probably not going to happen so I'm left with the question of, "now what?" For the longest time I thought that my purpose was to have a family consisting of a wife and kids. That's why I'm glad that I wrote this because it's helping me to answer the question of "now what." It's helping me to come up with a compelling reason to keep going. And that reason can't just be about me. It has to involve helping others experience happiness and joy. But I can't help others experience it if I can't experience it myself. So, for the first time in my life I'm trying to project myself into the future. I'm in the process of applying for The New Teacher Project Teaching Fellows Program to help teach disadvantaged youth. I'm also seriously considering teaching English abroad in either Brazil, China, Korea, or Thailand. I'm beginning to learn how to meditate and focus on the here and now, and as soon as I have money I'm going to get myself tested for depression and ADD.I understand that there may be some of you who may find this post alarming and distressful. I'm sorry for that, but I have to be honest about how I feel. You may also know what you can do to help. The same thing that you can do to help anybody who may need your love, let them know that you're there and that you care. I have so many wonderful, special people in my life. I'm especially thankful to my mother and step-father Don for letting me move in and ruin their golden age bliss. (har har) I know that having me move in with them can't be easy. Just when you think that the kids are gone they keep coming back. HAHAHA! And we may not always speak the same language, but I know that you love me. And to all those people who may have reached out to me in the past. I'm sorry that I haven't been as available as I should have. I've had a lot going on. I will try to do better.
I hesitate to post this because of the potential reaction I may get, but here goes...
