Mormon Women Ask For a Place at the Table

LDS women line up to seek admission into the Priesthood session

This morning I logged onto facebook to see one friend after another post about the glory and goodness of the talk given by President Dieter F. Uchdorf. Statuses were updated about how much they loved his words, about the truth he spoke, and about how there is room for each person who desires to be accepted and cherished in the "one true church".  

It was hard for me to read, not because I didn't love the message, who wouldn't love a message that encourages us to love others, live up to our potential, and to live a life void of regrets. No, it was hard for me to read because I knew that tonight I would go down to Temple Square and watch as sister after sister--my sisters no matter what my current beliefs--asked to be let in to the Priesthood session. And I knew that I would watch them be turned away, one by one, their hearts breaking yet again.

What I forgot to factor in was the fact that man after man would belittle their feelings. That Priesthood holder after Priesthood holder would laugh when they learned why all those women were waiting in line. They would rolled their eyes. They would make jokes about "angry feminists" or "crazy feminists" or "stupid feminists" or "ungrateful feminists". They thought it sinful. They felt uncomfortable. They averted their eyes. They pretended not to see us. That hurt. That always hurts.

Women are denied entrance on the left while men and boys gain access on the right.

Man after man was let into conference. Boy after boy was let into the conference. Woman after woman was denied. Women from all over the world came, stood, and asked to be let into the priesthood session:

"I am a faithful woman in this church. I have three daughters. May I please enter and watch the priesthood session?"

"No, this session is only for men."

"Hello, my name is Anne. I have been a member all my life. I would like to come into the priesthood session and listen to my prophet."

"I'm sorry, I can't let you in. This session is only for men."

Woman after Woman denied entrance

"I would like to be let in."

"I would like a ticket."

"I want to listen to my prophet."

"I'm faithful. I served a mission. I would like to enter."

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. 

Mormon men and boys avert their eyes and ignore their sisters seeking entrance

I've removed myself from the Mormon church because of many reasons. Women being treated unequally was a main one. Mormon woman after Mormon woman have justified their not holding the priesthood by saying that they don't "feel unequal".  But, in the words of Kate Kelly-- "Equality ISN'T a feeling."  

Equality is a fact. It can be measured. Whether you feel it or not. It's there. You can decide not to be bothered by it. You can even deny it. But you can measure it. You can gauge it. You can see it--even if you refuse to feel it.

Women cannot bless and pass the sacrament.

Women cannot preside over general meetings.

Women cannot baptize people.

Women cannot bless their babies.

Women cannot perform ordinances in church houses.

Women cannot heal the sick by laying on of hands.

Women cannot be called as prophet.

Women cannot be called as Bishop.

Women cannot be in charge of the money.

Women cannot know information in the temple that men know.

Women cannot attend meetings meant for men 

(though men can attend any meeting meant for women)

The group of 200 met back at the park and sang "I Am a Child of God"

I have chosen not to live in that world. That world where I am given a list of rote answers to solve all my questions. A world that dictates what I can do with my body. A world that tells me that it is only through them that I can gain salvation. A world that tells me No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

Leaving that world was one of the hardest things I have ever done--but leaving that world was necessary for my extreme self-respect. 

Tonight, I attended the "Ordain Women" event to record footage of history in the making--to record my many sisters who love, honor, and cherish this church as a major part of their world. I hugged them. I shared their tears. I felt for them. I saw the faces of dedication. They are the pioneers of this battle for equality, and I honor them. I send them all my love and pray that they soon will have a place at the table with the men. Soon. ORDAIN WOMEN.

The Grand Finale of My Teaching Career

Yesterday I went to Subway for lunch because I can't bare to cook or clean, let alone shower ( please note: I did shower) at this point in the year. School just needs to be over. My OPUS is finished. My decade + of teaching has reached it's grand climax and the resolution is wearing thin.

While I was telling the man to hold the lettuce and load on the tomatoes, the girl behind me asked the sweet sandwich maker,

"Does the turkey sandwich come with cucumbers?"

The man, who's first language was Spanish, really tried hard to understand this question, but he (and I both) looked perplexed, 

"Excuse me?"

I turned around and looked at the girl...she was staring earnestly up at the photos of the sandwiches. The turkey one pictured, did, indeed have cucumbers on it.

"The turkey sandwich, it comes with cucumbers right?" The people behind her also looked perplexed. The man didn't know how to answer, so he shrugged his shoulders. She responded, "Ok, well, um, I guess I'll get the ham sandwich."  *Please note that the ham sandwich was not photographed with cucumbers.

When I looked at this girl and I realized that she was, indeed, one of my students. She was a normal, run of the mill student (because you may be asking yourself if she needed special help on a daily basis). But, no. She was a normal kid.  Well, normal for Park City, which means she looked like Gisele Bundchen at the beach.

(mini/weird/offtopicrant)I don't really know how these girls do it--to look and dress like they do on a daily basis. They are so slender and wear so few clothes. I'm just perpetually cold when I look at them. But 90% of the girls could be supermodels. It's what they aspire to. Park City is a funny place to all of us regular folk. The women of this town are freaks of nature.  It's either something in the water--or the intermixed gene pool from the Gods or most likely it an eating disorder pact. (endrant)

I looked at this poor girl and the pain in my heart was sharp. Had I not taught her better than this? Had I really not given her the skills to understand that at Subway (and in life) you could have it your way? It was a call to action, and somehow I knew that this was going to be the last (and greatest) lesson I ever taught her (or anyone in Park City)!

"Hey," I said casually, "you know, you can still get the turkey sandwich and then when you get over here (I pointed to all of the vegetable choices) you just make sure they don't put cucumbers on it. You have the choice. You have the choice with whatever you want to have on your sandwich."  I spoke slowly, so as not to confuse her. I felt like this was a defining moment in her life, the moment she understood how to order from Subway and also how to understand what life could be. All the possibilities wrapped up in a metaphor about a turkey sandwich.

I saw the lightbulb go on "Oh! Wow. Thanks, Ms. Bee." The rest of the queue looked relieved. They could move on. I could move on. We could all move on.  And, with that, I bought my sandwich (with cucumbers) and I walked out. 

I feel like I really changed her life.

Sundance Review: A.C.O.D.

1 in 2 marriages ends in divorce.

This one was particularly ugly.

And thus begins one of the first movies that tackles divorce in such a comedic style.

At first glance, one might think a title like A.C.O.D. stands as an acronym for a new kind of hyperactive disease suffered by middle school kids. You'd be almost right. A.C.O.D. stands for "Adult Child of Divorce". If a young children watch their parents go through a messy divorce--how does that affect them as adults? Will they marry? Avoid commitment? 

A.C.O.D. stars Adam Scott as Carter--the son who holds the family together. Carter has had to be the go-between for his divorced parents (played geniusly by Richard Jenkins and the marvelous (and camera shy) Catherine O'Hara) ever since they decided to get a divorce on his 9th birthday. Years later, Carter must try to bring his parents together to celebrate the marriage of his younger brother Trey (played by Clark Duke--who has words of wisdom for young people in the video below).

 

The reconciling of his parents brings an onslaught of issues to deal with from childhood events, to his current love life with his girlfriend, to his attraction to Jessica Alba (can't be helped, I suppose). This film stars Adam Scott, Richard Jenkins, Amy Poehler, Jessica Alba, and the marvelous Catherine O'Hara in one of the most poignant and truthful stories I've seen about family dysfunction. I would definitely take the time to watch the Q & A section in the video I posted....plus, it's the only time you'll see Catherine O'Hara (who was very camera shy on the red carpet). I'll leave you with this little message from Amy Poehler (yes, that's me asking the unglamorous and poorly worded question, but who cares!)

Sundance Review: The East

Clever. Captivating. Innovative. Perfectly Paced. Brit Marling has breathed new life into film with this fresh idea.

This film was satisfying.

How often can you say that?

I first discovered Brit Marling in Another Earth. She was quiet, stunning, and a persuasive actor. Little did I know she had not only starred in the film, she had also co-written it. A flawless beauty, she was tired of being offered parts as "the dumb cheerleader".  So, she started writing two screenplays of her own. She would work on one in the morning and one in the evening.

One of these was The East. It is an utterly and  completely refreshing idea for a film. A woman (Marling) goes undercover to find and expose an American "terrorist" group of young people led by a seeming fanatic (played marvelously by Alexander Skarsgard). It truly is a band of misfits, Ellen Page being the feistiest of them all.

However, what is defined as "terrorism" is questionable at best--and it puts me, as a member of the audience, in a peculiar situation.  What do you do when you find yourself agreeing and siding with the "terrorists" (gulp)? These people have respect for the land and the seas. They want people to protect their fellow man from the big, bad corporations. They target large oil companies who have trashed the oceans. They target large drug companies who sell drugs with side effects that kill people. They, in fact, do what a lot of young environmentalists wish, in a way, that they could do. But, their actions are dangerous and they are illegal....and enthralling as hell.

You'll definitely be surprised and intrigued. This is one movie that is not figure-out-able in the first five minutes. It doesn't follow a typical Hollywood movie plot line. It isn't simplistic and stupid. It's sophisticated, smart, fast paced, and the best movie I have seen at Sundance this far.

(movies and pictures will be added to this post tonight when I get home!)

Sundance Review: Stoker

As a photographer--this film was visually one of the most stunning sequence of composed shots I've ever seen compiled into a single movie. As a human being with a mother and many uncles, this film made me utterly creeped out. So, it was a win-win.

Stoker stars Academy Award winner Nicole Kidman, Mia Wasikowska (I finally know how to spell her name!), and the utterly delightful Matthew Goode. Perhaps the biggest reveleation, however, came in the form of director Park Chan-wook. Many will know him from Oldboy, but will have never even heard of him before. He makes his English directorial debut here at Park City this year. Armed with a translator, he was delightfully charismatic, charming, humorous, and low-key. I loved him.

Maybe it is because I like to explore the complexity of human emotion in my photography work, maybe it is because I like to push boundaries with what people feel comfortable with in their communication, maybe it is because--as a writer and creator--I spend much of my alone time thinking about why humans do what they do and how they do it. Maybe it is all of these things, that made this film so intensely interesting.

Or, maybe it was all the blood. It was shocking, but also not so shocking since I just saw Django Unchained last week. There was a lot of lovely blood spraying all over very pure flowers in this film, and I guess I'm ok with that. I never thought I'd be ok with blood in a movie, but when it's just so lovely and artistic, it sorta gets to me. In a good way. 

At the opening of the film, India (Wasikowska) has just lost her father (Dermot Mulroney) on the day she turned 18. Her mother, Evie (Kidman) is distant, and often cruel, to her daughter. On the day of the funeral, Evie introduces India to an uncle she didn't know she had, Charlie (Matthew Goode). Then everything just gets bizarre. Evie and Charlie have feelings for each other. Charlie and India have feelings for each other. There is a lot of staring. There is a lot of emotion. There is a lot of anger and violence, especially on the part of India. And there is a lot of dysfunction. If you want to feel better about your own dysfunctional family, come and spend time with this one.


Oh, also, this was written by the ever intense Wentworth Miller who starred in Prison Break. I've always liked him.

Sundance Review: Kill Your Darlings

This is a cheesy video I made because I want my magazine to get lots of subscription and YouTube love, so watch it please!

When Michael C. Hall walked into the Eccles Center for his Sundance Premiere of Kill Your Darlings, he was dressed in monochromatic gray sweater and pants, and had a very unassuming nature. He also had a ready smile and talked a lot about his love of the Beatnik icons like Jack Kerouac (played beautifully by ravishing (and tall!) Jack Huston from Boardwalk Empire). He talked about the depths the film goes to in an eloquence that was unexpected. Not only is Hall refeshingly kind, succinct, and interesting--we also give him thumbs up for being well read and eloquent. During one moment, he said, honestly, that it's the one and only time in his life where he looked at the director and said, "Don't be an idiot, hire me."

The director, John Krokidas, is not an idiot. Thank God. Not only did he cast Michael C. Hall, he also rounded up such talent as Dane DeHaan, Ben Foster, newbie Elizabeth Olsen, and Daniel Radcliffe. When Radcliffe took to the stage for the Q & A, a member of the audience asked him, "Why are you drawn to such bizarre roles?" Radcliffe did a sweet little smile and looked like he was about 12. He was good natured and cracked a little joke about how parts he thinks are interesting, everyone else thinks are crazy-weird and that he's a weirdo for taking them. Truth be told, this movie is a far cry from Harry Potter days (thank God, again) and Daniel has a gay love scene in the film. I overheard one girl, a LDS woman from Utah, say as she left the screening, "I feel really guilty because that guy love scene totally turned me on."  I'd say that's pretty good praise when you're in Utah.

Set in 1944, the movie draws real figures from history like Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and William Burroughs together in an intriguing murder mystery. As Ginsberg (Radcliffe) ventures off to Columbia, he's pulled into a world of education, city life, new explorations in sexuality, and a bit of obsession. His obsession centers around a young man named Lucien Carr (played by Dane DeHaan). Carr soon commits an unexpected, but well documented murder that draws Gingsberg in even deeper into a world that unfolds before the audience in a true mastery of story telling. As is true for most Beat stories, the women don't have much to do.

The film started with a poem that one of the producers wrote on a stickie note and handed to his friend. He told his friend he wanted to write this play. His friend said, "Nope, you're gonna write a screenplay and I'm going to direct it." And they did. I like people who's dreams start on stickie notes and end up on the big screen at Sundance.

Taking My Dissatisfaction Out To Dinner

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Last night Lena Dunham, a mere 26 years old, won Golden Globes for best actress and best television comedy for her creation, GIRLS. She has received a lot of criticism and praise for what she’s done. The criticism comes mostly from people who probably want to be where she is and are not. Like those film friends we all have who sit around and critique everything wrong with a movie, but don’t go out and make movies themselves—even though they are always proclaiming their desire to do so---(ooh, laying the slap down on a Monday morning!)

I sat in my fuzzy socks and stretchy pants sipping tea last night and watched Hugh Jackman, Anne Hathaway, Christopher Waltz (bravo!), and Claire Danes (again!) win these little statues of validation. I admit. I was envious. I just sat there.

Sat and thought about my writing career which doesn’t really exist. Sat and thought about my photography business (which is still so tiny).  Sat and thought about my role in helping women in this world. Sat and thought about all the big dreams I have and how so many of them are in the process of coming true—but how there is always a sense of dissatisfaction in areas where people would be shocked to know you are dissatisfied.

While many people try to avoid feeling the dissatisfaction—or drown them out temporarily in chocolate and alcohol (and yes, I’ve definitely done both), I’ve grown to savor those tiny dagger-like feelings that creep into my psyche ever morning and every night. I’ve learned to temper them, feel them, thrive from them, and make changes based on them. Dissatisfaction, in a sense, has driven my life since I was 7.

Some people might think it sounds awful.  Some people might raise eyebrows at me and inwardly feel bad that I embrace such feelings. But the artists out there, those artists, they raise a glass in camaraderie with me.

Do you know what's already happened this year? A million Beethovens were born. A million Oprahs. A million Einsteins. A million Florence Nightingales. A million Martin Luther Kings. And a million Madame Curies, to name just a few. Each as capable of moving mountains, touching lives, and leaving the world far better than they found it.

But which ones will have the courage to do whatever little they can each day, with what little they've got, from where they are, before their baby steps turn into giant leaps for the legions who will follow them?

I truly believe it’s the ones who feel a little dissatisfied every day--and that dissatisfaction drives them to ultimate creation.

Why I Am Not Fair to the Mormons

I received an email two days ago from someone I admire and love. It was in regards to my thoughts on being religion free that I posted last time on the blog (see link).

He writes:

Dear D'Arcy, 

"I read your blog post from last week celebrating 5 years emancipation from the church...You talk about having a rebirth, but you throw a lot of dirt on the church in the process.  When you imply that you couldn't laugh, take walks, eat cupcakes, or see Broadway shows before you left the church, or that in the church the only things you could really hope for were a husband and a family, or that in the church God expects you to be a polygamist wife you are distorting the truth and simply not telling the whole story. 

You're casting blame on the church.  But, I take walks, laugh, eat cupcakes, and watch Broadway plays (albeit not on Broadway, having never been to New York).  Lots of church members find swimming or painting or dance or entrepreneurship or drama to be inherent in their faith--expressions of identity that go beyond marriage and family.  That there are a lot of people in the church who are insensitive and inexperienced goes without saying. That you struggle with the church is also apparent.  But saying that the church is totally at fault is not telling the whole story and doesn't seem fair."

After thinking a bit about this I have decided to respond publicly--cause, well, I want to:

First of all, Mormons are AWESOME dancers!

Second of all--when the LDS church is fair to women, then maybe I will be fair to the LDS church (bam! yeah, take that mature answer!) But honestly folks, that's not really an answer. The real answer is, "um, huh?"

So, here is my best explanation (with some help from an articulate friend who talked through some of this with me this week) on why I am seemingly not fair to the Mormon church.

In a distant land....far, far away...called The Matrix (beat!), when I was still Mormon, every small action of every day, every small act, was informed and shaped by being Mormon. Every moment was full of little moral dilemmas. Should I have done that? Watched that? Thought that? Said that? Worn that? Kiss that with my tongue as long as I did?

In this land, I would not have enjoy a naked Daniel Radcliffe in the Broadway play Equus (stage seating too, I might add) the way I do now because now I do not have any guilt over watching naked people on stage do some acting. That fabulous play was not bound by my Mormon fear of choosing and liking the wrong thing and offending God.  

And cupcakes! Sure, I enjoyed them as a Mormon....BUT....

What about cupcake made with alcohol or coffee? Those are da bomb-diggity! But, even buying a cupcake was an event full of Matrix thoughts: "Should you have born your testimony to that person who asked you about your Utah driver’s license?  Did you bring along pass-along cards or Books of Mormon?  And if not, why?  Are you the clean, bright, happy, healthy representative you ought to be of the Church? "

These are just small examples of the questions floating around in my head as I lived my daily life as a Mormon. A constant barrage, a discourse of inadequacy and guilt--peppered with pats on the back and feelings of marked achievement (look at that man with the smoking addiction! Look at that man with the beer! Look at the women with the tank top! I am not like that, and that is good.)

And while my emancipation took a while to achieve, it was worth the struggle. Why? Well, my friend described it this way, there "is this amazing feeling of peace I feel. There is an enormous, beautiful, quiet place in my heart that never existed there before.  I know I am capable of making good decisions.  I’m not so afraid of words or actions or thoughts anymore.  I’m not so afraid.  And that makes everything, EVERYTHING, better."


To make this briefer--

At one point in time, the church infused everything in my life (demanded to infuse my life). Thus, the church has a major responsibility to answer for the anxiety and fear and guilt that also infused my life.  That is not to say that there are no good things about the Mormon church.  That is simply to acknowledge that my experience in the church was, in fact, not chiefly a positive in my life. And that is the truth. 

And when I speak my truth--then why does the word "fair" come in to play?

Has the church been fair to my truth? 

Does the church acknowledge each Mormon woman struggling to find a worth outside of the confines it has prescribed?  

Is the church fair when it constantly presents talks and lessons and activities and attitudes that make it crystal clear that without a husband and without children a woman is incomplete.  Imperfect.  Sad.  Yearning.  Waiting.

Has the church been fair when it funds campaigns about Prop 8?

Has the church been fair and truthful when presenting its past?

Has the church been fair when choosing what color of skin was worthy to hold the priesthood? What gender even?

Has the church been fair?

Maybe to some it has (if you're a white guy, you've got it made). Maybe to others it hasn't (having a vagina doesn't help your case much). 

But what I do know is that I really do not care if I paint the Mormon church in a light that its members find unpleasing and unfair.

And that is the true freedom I have gained. 

And that, friends, is why I sing and dance and eat my cupcakes with more zest and zeal than I did the first 30 years of my life.

Five Years of Being Religion-Free

It has now been five official years since I left the LDS church.

Honestly, the first two years were hell both socially and mentally. I had a lot of guilt. I had a lot of loneliness. And I was constantly being bombarded by people who cared for me telling me that I was making the biggest mistake of my eternal life.

The third and fourth years were better because my new way of viewing life started overriding my old fundamentalist thought patterns (with great, great effort).

And, the fifth year (which just completed last week) was so outrageously phenomenal that I want to go back and give the D'Arcy of 2007 a really big hug and tell her "it gets better."

It was on my 30th birthday, September 15, 2007, that I woke up in New York City and said, "enough is enough." I was scared. I was full of self doubt. I was worried about what this meant for my future. I had no idea how to form a life if I was not focused on getting married in the Mormon temple. I had bitterness to work through.  I felt like I had wasted 30 years in an institution that was not meant for me. I had a lot of regret. I had a lot of insecurities. I felt like as I questioned, I would most likely be led back to the LDS church because it was "true".  But that never happened. And I found myself moving (not drifting, that's what I had done the decade before) towards the world. The world without Mormons.

The last five years have opened my mind in so many ways that have helped me see the world as a friendly, loving, accepting, kind, forgiving place with really good wine. I like to say "The world" because anyone who has taken part in the LDS church knows what negative connotations those two words can have.  We were told from the time that we could crawl that the "world" is evil, dangerous and will lure us away from the righteous gospel path. And, well, since I now no longer go to church, I occasionally drink wine and coffee, and I decide what spiritual power I can be endowed with (and do not leave it to the old men to decide for me), then--really, by their standards, I guess what they believe about the world is true.

Each year I go to New York City on my birthday and celebrate the re-birth I was blessed to have at the age of 30. I enjoy myself. I treat myself to the things I love. I make goals for the upcoming year. I reflect on the year I just finished. I laugh. I walk a lot. I eat cupcakes. I see Broadway shows. And, I talk to God. This amazingly beautiful God that I relate to in ways that were never possible when I was part of the LDS church. I ask this God for more than just a husband. I ask this God for more than just children. I ask God to make my life more than what I once thought I wanted. I ask this God for more power than I had the chance of ever having in organized religion. I thank this God that I no longer have to look to an organization to tell me right and wrong. I thank this God that she has blessed me with the ability to be in charge of my own body. I thank this God that I can make my own decisions with her guidance and no one elses'. I thank this God that she does not need me to be a polygamist (here or in heaven). I thank her that she has blessed me with greater imagination and hope for an afterlife. I thank her for so much. 

And then I see another Broadway musical and dream bigger than I ever have before.

What Kind of Intelligent Are You?

What does it mean to be "educated"? What does it mean to be "intelligent"? Something I have learned to ask my students and other adults around me is, "What kind of intelligent are you?" I learned this from Ken Robinson, because, like Ken, I believe that everyone is intelligent, it just depends on how what you are measuring. If you measured my Math skills instead of my design skills, I would come out very average indeed.

This question, "What kind of intelligent are you?" Is often a surprise to my fine art students. They are not sure what I mean. Usually, it is phrased, "Are you intelligent?" or "How smart are you?" of "What was your ACT score?" Most people, when asked this, immediately think if they are good at Math or Science or English and then will rate themselves about a 6 or 7, or lower. Few will rate it higher.

But, how flawed is this system? How flawed is it to limit our measure of intelligence to these three subjects? What about the dancer, the painter, the photographer, the poet, the biochemist, the drummer, the singer, the interior designer?

This educational system in front of us does NOT help people find their passions, to find what they love to do, in fact, it fights against it most often, and pushes people into careers that are something they end up enduring instead of enjoying.

I am not this teacher.

I tell my intelligent actors (who are living and breathing with passion, but who get VERY little encouragement to actually work in the acting world from anyone close to them. It's always a hobby. Can you imagine if Marlon Brando just kept it as a hobby?) I tell them that if this is what they love to do, then they should do it. Drama is just as important as Math in my world. It was always more important. It's pushed aside, it's looked at as a "fun" class, a play class, an easy class--but not in my classroom. It is a study and it is challenging and it is inspiring. And I love it.

And I would say to you, just like I say to them:

Find what you love to do and do it. Find your element and do it. Most people have not. It is surprising how many people do not do what they love to do. Can you imagine what the world would be like if we were all living in our "intelligence"? It is essential to your well being and your success in life. It is essential to our well being as communities--that is my firm belief.

We all have distinctive passions and talents that will inspire us to do far more than we can imagine. So, why have people not discovered this within themselves yet? I really think it is a failed system that forces so many people through the cookie cutter educational system. What would a solution be, well, I'm working on that.

But for now, it would be fun to know more about you.

What is your intelligence?

(This is the first part in many musings in Creativity in Education!)

Follow Your Gut

Risk comes from being alive. And yet, it is something we are taught to avoid. I love taking risks, but not in any traditional sense of the word. You will never find me bungee jumping or skydiving or deep sea swimming with killer sharks or even wearing a tube top (that is a risk! I promise! I have seen it go awry!)

But you will find me changing careers, moving to unknown countries, telling people I love them even when I am unsure what the response with be, standing up for things that are right when they are unpopular, drinking the water in Mongolia, and being true to myself--even if I risk losing those closest to me.

Those are my acts of bravery. They are simple. But simple is not a bad thing.

My new mantra in life has been: "Follow Your Gut"

It's been a difficult road to traverse, because apparently my "gut" likes to take me into uncharted waters more often then the average sailor (sailors, yum). Have these things always worked out the way I expected (remember that time I was unemployed in Portugal and homeless without a dime to my name? Yep. That came from following my gut, by the way)? Obviously, my life has had ups and downs because of my desire to take on the world and experience everything. 

When you follow your gut are you promised riches and bling and unending happiness? Depends. Honestly, I think the world needs more people who have found their passion and followed their "guts" to figure out how that passion can benefit the world.

Ultimately for me, what I have learned the most, is that when you follow your gut--no matter who approves, who applauds, and who calls you crazy--you avoid the tummy ache that inevitably comes from trying to please other people's desires for you (but, God Bless them).

And God bless you (blessings from a semi-agnostic who has no answers about spirituality mean a lot these days, yes?). And I bless you too, bless you that you will figure out what it is you are meant to be doing on a daily basis and then DO NOT WAIT. Start now. Start. Begin. Right now. Stop reading. Go. Get to it. Follow your gut.

Martha's Vineyard Epiphany about Same Sex Marriage

Sometimes things make so much sense in my head that I forget others feel challenged by certain ideas that I find very easily acceptable and natural. I live in this beautiful liberal land (yes, even in the midst of Utah) where people I talk to and see on a daily basis and give my attention to all have similar open minds. We recycle. We prefer fair trade over free trade most days. We know that women and men deserve equal pay, and that old fashion gender roles are something that do not define us. We love to vote and eat things like quinoa salad and shop locally. It's a happy place, this little land I've created. So, I find it funny that I had a very simple epiphany in the midst of Martha's Vineyard two weeks ago.

It started out by doing a photo shoot. I get into my groove during that creative time and it is one of my favorite ways to connect with people. My couple was Megan and Linda: the first lesbian couple I have ever photographed. It is funny because during similar shoots I've done of same sex couples, other photographers have asked me how I "pose" my couples. I always thought that was a funny question. One that I simply responded to with "I pose them the way I pose all my couples in love." Why should there be a difference? Both of these ladies were glowing and fabulous and happy and secure and completely in love. The love was deep and respectful and delightful and funny and kind and passionate. They have been together for four years and their wedding is scheduled for next October. They told me the story of their proposal and of their courtship and of the night they fell in love. That photo shoot was one of the most amazing and simple I have ever done. There was no bickering. There was no uncomfortableness. I said, "Be in love, kiss, hold each other." And that is exactly what they did without a hint of awkwardness that sometimes creeps up in straight males not used to being in front of the camera (though I love you boys).

This was completely, utterly, without a doubt normal to me. I did not think it weird or different or threatening or against God. I did not think it awkward or uncomfortable or worry who would see the photos and not hire me because I am so "liberal". And my epiphany came when I realized that we have a whole world out there that does not feel the same way that I do. Most of this beautiful and blessed country that I live in will not acknowledge this marriage between these women. That is the reality and indeed a large percentage of the US population finds such a union threatening and ugly and wrong and perverted. And my epiphany kept going when I had the very simple thought of: "Well, if they could just see what I am seeing right now, then everyone would change their minds. They would see that Love is Love and that it isn't different when it is shared by people different from them. Love is the same." And this may seem simplistic. But it made sense. And so, that is what I will do. And it may be small. But the photos I post will show you, no matter what, that love is love. 

And Utah, be prepared for change.

The Book of Mormon Girl--First 2 Chapters

I was lucky enough to get to spend some time with Joanna Brooks last Thursday. I photographed her with her book, and she kindly gave me a signed copy that was completely unexpected and sincerely sweet of her. She is just a good person. She is a smart person. She is a person that knows what to say and how to make people feel understood.

Since I have not actively participated in the Mormon church for the last little while (besides haphazard blogging with the Exponent), I had sort of forgotten that the world sees Mormons as a peculiar people. Most of those "peculiar" behaviors are no longer part of my life, but some of them are and always will be. However, with the upcoming election, I am being reminded of all the ways that "outsiders" look at my family and see their peculiar behavior. I vacillate between agreeing with the world (it's just green tea people!), and wanting to explain some things more clearly when the world gets it wrong (no, there is no practice of polygamy in the church today). 

I snuggled down this week to start reading the memoir. In the past year, I've only read one other book dealing with Mormonism and that was Elna Baker's The New York Regional Singles Mormon Halloween Dance. After reading that, I had to call my good friend and have a long, frustrated, sad cry. I identified with the Elna's story so exactly that it caused me to feel such loss and such remorse over distancing myself from my Mormon-ness and also extreme frustration that I was still awkward and unknowingly unsure about how to participate in the regular world outside of Mormon identification. I felt, quite honestly, that it would have either been easier to stay (which it most certainly would have been). I questioned why I put myself and my family and my friends through my disassociation and extreme doubt and rabid vocalization of my dissatisfaction. But that's the thing with dissatisfaction, it's hard to keep it quiet.

In enters The Book of Mormon Girl. I sat down on Friday and read three pages. Those pages, so beauitflly and poetically and precisely written to paint the life of a Mormon girl. Those pages that will mean completely different things to Mormon people than they will to non-Mormons. Those pages that evoke smells and sounds and memories of a good life, of the beautiful traditions, and the wholesome goodness that defined my childhood.

I shut the book.  I was not sure I could go there again. Not sure I wanted to bring up the feelings of loneliness and unbelonging that come when I see my happy Mormon friends attending their church meetings. The feelings of being misunderstood, or being perceived as a sinner or lazy. The feelings that come up and that I must process and address so that I can keep living an authentic life.

Saturday night I worked through another chapter, and I mourned not feeling a part of the only community I have ever really known. I thought I had processed through these emotions, but that is the funny thing, your childhood never goes away. Even if I thought I had put enough distance between who I am now and who I was as a Mormon--I'm not sure it will ever go away.

I shut the book.  I was feeling uncomfortable. I was imagining the life I could have had as a Mormon. The life I had always imagined having, which looks nothing like the fabulous life I am living now. 

Sunday morning, I opened it again and kept on going. Through Joanna's descriptions of her childhood, I returned to my childhood. I felt the love of my grandmother as we would sit on a church pew together. I remembered the special day that my father baptized me and gave me the gift of the Holy Ghost through a special blessing. I remembered feeling so wanted and loved by a kind Heavenly Father. I remembered when Jesus was a pivotal person in my life. I remember wearing plaid jumpers and having no bigger desires then to live a life pleasing to God. I remember a time when I never, never let a curse word pass my lips (hard to believe!)

It was like all the perfect and happy and warm and comforting moments of being Mormon flashed through my head in little vignettes painting in pinks and golds. With all the good memories, it gets easy to forget the bad ones, the ugly ones. I wanted to make excuses for all the hurt and pain that I suffered and that millions of women and men of all colors suffered. It made me want to forget that I care about gay marriage and equal rights and patriarchy, and personal freedom and choice. It made me go deep into my heart space to ask myself if I should be Mormon again ( I still check in about once a year).

Tomorrow. I'll tackle chapter 3.

Accepting The Things I Cannot Change

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

It was when I first started attending AA with my brother that I heard the "Serenity Prayer". After listening to people talk through their addictions and struggles, we would hold hands with the stranger next to us and say, "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference."

Whenever I have recited this prayer, my mind has always,always lingered on "God grant me the courage to change the things I can." For someone who loves constantly pushing myself to heights and horizons I could have never dreamed reaching, this is the part that spoke to my personality.

I never thought about the other half of this prayer. Never. It was not in my vocabulary. It was not in my mind set. I had never had a situation that I could not change for the better. To even give thought to, "Accept the things I cannot change," was something I was incapable of doing. I am D'Arcy. I always have the power to change things I do not want to accept. I have the power to change myself. I have the power to choose my path. I have the power to decide where I live, what I do, who I have relationships with, how I see myself.

If I just cannot accept the fact that Marriage Equality is not granted to everyone right now--then I will not accept it, and I will work to change it. If I cannot accept the fact that women currently earn less then men. I will not accept it and I will work to change it. Everything had a solution, or at least a part that I could play in the solution.

Everything can be changed. At least. I could work to change it. 

Accept it? NEVER.

Until Patience.

Having Patience in my life made me realize that there are a few things I cannot change.

I cannot change who her mother is.
I cannot change what her mother has done to her.
I cannot change the things that she saw when her mother was high.

I cannot change how her mother will raise her.
I cannot change her father or his drug addiction and apathy.

I cannot change how the system works.

I cannot change the decisions her parents made.
I cannot change the harm they caused her.

I cannot change the fact that she does not understand what is going on right now, and that she is scared and fragile and lonely and confused and that she thinks I have abandoned her.

I cannot change her life in the ways I want to change her life.

I cannot accept these things.

And yet I must.

The lesson and the peace lie in the acceptance.

I cannot change this.

This is Life.

I am happiest when I am doing something creative. My hands like to be busy. My mind likes to be busy. Sitting and meditating in silence is one of the hardest things for me to do. I make a very bad New-Agey person most times (except I love wearing yoga pants everywhere!), even though the core philosophies resonate with me deeply. The peace. The quiet. Why can't I just sit in peace and quiet and let the answers flow over me like a river? Are not all answers found in the flowing waters of a river? (that last sentence should be said in Yoda voice or its equivalent).

I cannot just let things flow over me, mostly, because I get bored. Because I do not find my solace in the peace and the quiet. I find it in the busy and dirty and heat of a city street. I find it making random eye contact with people in crowded places. I find it going through an overpopulated airport on my way to a different country. I find it sitting in a loud pub and staring at the bottom of my glass. I find it at rock concerts. I find it in chaos.

Forget the quietly flowing river, I say! I'd rather be paddling down the river, having waves rush at me, dodging rocky cliffs, and forgetting to wear a life jacket. This may be to my detriment. I accept it and am going to stop trying to change it. I shall not relax!

I like to jump wholeheartedly into that which I believe. I take action. I do stupid shit. Sometimes that shit pans out and sometimes it does not (hello, shall I tell you about the time I gave up everything and moved to Switzerland?).

I have stopped trying to make sense of it. I have made so many mistakes in life. I have also never let fear get the best of me. I think those two things go hand in hand. 

I take the risks. I tell men I love them. I move to foreign countries. I invest all my money in my passions. I would rather be homeless that an accountant. I get too political. I speak too loudly. I drive too fast. I am wrong often and won't admit it. I expect more from a conversation over coffee than most people do (thrill me, please!). I get way too anti-social. I am awkward. I sing all the time.

I want to experience everything. I keep thinking this will go away. I keep telling myself that I will want to settle down. Be one place. Grow a garden. Nest. Build a life that consists of constants. But I have finally admitted that I do not want those things. I am bored by those things. I can't imagine my life not changing from year to year. This makes me a bad candidate for relationships and family units. People might pity that. I embrace it. It is who I am.

Like trying to squeeze five lifetimes into one.

I'll take that challenge.

Did I Overreact?

I have learned a huge lesson this month. One that seems simple and straightforward, but one I have resisted for years and years (decades, even!)


Let me sum it up for you:

If you guide your behavior by paying attention to the way someone else feels about your behavior...then YOU ARE POWERLESS.

This means taking action without worrying about other people's reaction to your action.

Yikes!

This means that you might not meet the 1950s dictionary definition of "nice". It might mean that you are the very epitome of the 1950s dictionary definition of "mean".

This is hard for me. This might be hard for most women, and even some men (because men are people too).

I am referring, on a large scale, to our close, personal, intimate relationships (not about large actions that would affect a community).

Let me give you an example: have you ever led someone on romantically because you felt too "mean" to just ignore a text message or email from a would be (or past) suitor (even though ignoring is just what you wanted to do)? Did you worry that they would perceive you as mean, and you just want to be seen as nice (we all want to be liked)?  So you answer them, or accidentally encourage, or go on dates you do not want to go on because you just want things to go well, be drama free, no one to get hurt? (note to self: these types of situations really aren't supposed to go "well").

Here is another example: have you ever told someone that you are not interested in a relationship. So, they ask if you can just be friends instead. You have your doubts. But, to be "nice", you say sure! (even though you know that they harbor romantic feelings for you (or vice versa))? Thus, making every time you are with them uncomfortable and awkward?

What about the time you say yes to things you really do not want to do because you are worried how the other person will respond if you say no (even though your gut is saying NO!)

Why do we do this? Why do we not trust our guts? Why do we not do what we actually want to do? Even if it makes us "mean"?  Sure, we could blame it on being raised in a religious setting that teaches women to be sugar and spice and every thing nice (um, I think that is society in general, not just religious society). Sure we could blame our docile mother who just baked cookies and smiled through all the things she did that she did not want to do. Sure, we could blame it on ourselves--we overreact! We are overly sensitive! We are paranoid!  Maybe the guy is nice! Just give things a chance! Maybe you are wrong. It is easier just to say yes! --So, yes, I guess you just blame yourself and now stop doing it!

Why do we second guess every first decision we want to make?

How would your life be different if you did not second guess? No apologies.

Someone asks you out and you do not want to go, so you just say no (without the fear that you should say yes because the world tells you that you are a spinster and that you need to get married).

This is classic fear-based behavior--What will people think of me? What if I hurt their feelings? What if they tell other people I was mean or crazy or that I overreacted? That I am too much drama? That I am difficult? That I am hard to please? That I have too high of expectations?

I challenge each of you to notice things that you are doing that you do not want to be doing. It is not fair to yourself, or to the person you are in a relationship with, to continue to do these things. Even if that means ending the relationship. And you have to have enough faith in your feelings and emotions to let them guide you. Be true to them. And you have to have enough faith in the other person to realize that they are capable of dealing, and moving on, and finding a better life path.

And if we all did that, the world would be a more honest place. A better place. A happier place. 

Look out world. I am doing what I want to do, and I am no longer afraid what you might think of it.

The Most Important Freedom of All

The White Rabbit. 

The Red Pill vs. The Blue Pill.

A Dream You Can't Shake.

                  Rebirth.

Renewal.

                                                                                                         The Matrix.

                                                Circular Paths.

What is your world like? Who and what influences you? What questions and dilemmas do you ponder? What evils do you struggle against? What reforms do you advocate? What makes you laugh and cry?

And are you willing to expand any of those, or do you see only evil beyond your little haven you've created? Are you willing to have the freedom that comes with your own enlightenment? Are you wiling to see that only through enlightenment comes your own empowerment?

One of the most shocking things in the world to me is meeting someone who believes they have it all figured out. And yet, I understand them completely because for the first 30 years of my life, I felt that I, too, had all the answers. But within those answers I felt powerless to have any say in my life's situations. I sat around and waited for a God (who seemed pretty cool) to give me everything I prayed for, which, of course, does not happen..which then makes you think either God is uncool, or YOU are uncool. I dig God, so I my only conclusion was that I must have been the uncool one in the equation. Which led to feelings of powerlessness for me. Believing I could not choose anything other than the path that was set before me had me stagnant and feeling like an Old Maid at the age of 27.

Luckily, I took a brave leap of faith and ventured outside the little Matrix I was comfortable in (and I'm not just talking about religion here). 

And I started to see the world differently. And I started feeling powerful.

Like superhero powerful. Like web was going to come shooting out of my wrists powerful. Like my golden tiara and lasso could stop airplanes in mid-flight powerful.

For your 4th of July viewing pleasure, I thought a Good Ole Fashion Top Ten List would be appropriate. Here they are! The top ten ways that I think people, especially women, give away their power.

Feel free to disagree with me. I would love to hear your comments! 

1. Asking others what you should do.
2. Thinking God decides who gets what.
3. Worrying about how your dream will come true.
4. Thinking you have dues to pay.
5. Attaching to unimportant details and outcomes.
6. Believing in soul mates.
7. Thinking karma or spiritual contracts are absolute.
8. Fear of anything.
9. Waiting for your ducks to line up before acting.
10. Choosing to be unhappy.

Yes. Yes. YES!

"My first word of advice is this, Say yes. In fact, say yes as often as you can. Saying yes begins things. Saying yes is how things grow. Saying yes leads to new experiences, and new experiences will lead to knowledge and wisdom. Yes is for young people, and an attitude of yes is how you will be able to go forward in these uncertain times."

- Michael Hogan, President of the University of Connecticut.






Sometimes I say no to socializing. I am a loner (but not a scary one in a trench coat carrying a duffle bag). I like to stay at home and work because my focus on my work (which is my passion) is unquenchable. I am a homebody for sure. I travel so much that when I am home, I like to be here. I love my little cottage and the feeling of peace and happiness that sort of wafts over you as you enter. It is a good place to be off the grid. It is safe and warm and comfortable and cozy and full of everything I think I need in this world (except French people). So, many times when people invite me over or ask me out or want to get together or mention a cool exhibit or an awesome concert or hanging in a coffee shop or going dancing or grabbing a drink or a million other things that people do outside their doors, I say no. Work is more important. I am busy. I have this toddler with me now (though she is sort of a legitimate excuse :)  


So, when I read this quote about saying "YES" to things, I thought I was good to go. And then I realized that I do not say "yes" very often to those social gatherings. 


But, that's no big deal right?


I actually do not know. I do not know if my life would be different or if I would have deeper connections with others or if I would have been inspired in some way by some artists that changed my life if I would have just said YES. I just do not know. This not knowing makes me want to start saying yes to things I usually do not say yes to.


I say yes to education. I say yes to travel. I say yes to hard work. I say yes to taking in this little one. I say yes a lot, but I still have one major road block of "NOs" that I want to overcome. One that I think will make my life more tangible.


What about you?




"The big question is whether you are going to be able to say a hearty yes to your adventure."

- Joseph Campbell, mythologist, teacher, sage, rad man.