Happy Valley?

There are some days that you wish would never end. This last weekend was one of those times. The weather in the Wasatch acted as if it had been storing up its best days for me, with warm fall days, gentle breezes, and wispy white clouds wafting lazily through the mountain peaks. I soaked it up gleefully, knowing that it was soon to be merely a memory. And that's OK.

It's always hard to return to a place that you loved so much during your lifetime, because it's the good times that stay in the forefront of your cerebral cortex. It requires a real effort of will to bring back the negatives, unless there's something to jar your reverie.

On the front page of the Salt Lake Tribune last Saturday, there was an article publicizing a conference for ex-Mormons. It crystallized the feeling that I couldn't put into words so many years ago, and I just wanted to tell these poor attendees, "Let it GO!" What is it about this religion that inspires so much energy to be expended on telling the world that they no longer want to be a part of it? After all, the opposite of love is not hate; it's indifference.

One possible explanation is that being a part of the LDS culture is far more than just attending church. You have an entire social structure that takes over nearly all of your free time. Families are split because of the different choices made, and suddenly Family Home Evening is incomplete. Church attendance moves from an activity of bonding to one of breakage.

I get that. I grew up Catholic, and struggled for years to get my family members to understand my evolving views. I fought with them, argued my points, did my best to "show them the light", and it didn't do any good. It wasn't until fairly recently that I gave up. I realized that I was the problem, not them. Suddenly, it was no longer important for me to fight that particular battle. It was so liberating to realize that my truth didn't have to become their truth in order for it to be valid! Many people would say, "Well, duh!", but it was a pretty big Ah-Ha moment for me.

So, when that article brought this dichotomy back to the forefront for me, I was able to verbalize my inherent discomfort for being back in the Land of Zion - it felt like a war zone! One of ideals, yes, but quite confrontational nonetheless. One of the sayings in Unity, the church that I attend these days, is that "what you resist, persists". By resisting the opportunity to live in harmony (or at the very least, indifference) with their Mormon neighbors, these folks attending the conference are making sure that discord continues. It takes two to fight, and every parent knows that even a belligerent teen will eventually get bored if you don't allow yourself to get pulled into a heated discussion.

I also understand the need to be among others of like mind, so I certainly don't begrudge the conference attendees and organizers. I got a lot out of the cancer support group I attended over 6 years ago now. There is a time and a place for these things, but there is also a danger of making it into your drama story, instead of a footnote in the biography.

All things being equal, though, I would consider a move back to Utah, since those lovely mountains are always there to provide instant spiritual sustenance and a reconnection to what really matters. But I might end up as one of those crazy mountain folks with a bunch of animals running around, sitting on my porch as the world bustles on by... yeah, I think I could handle that, too. These days it doesn't sound so crazy after all!