If I Wasn't Mormon, I Would Have Liked to Live the Life of Anthony Bourdain

If I wasn't Mormon, I would have liked to live the life of Anthony Bourdain. Not that I think that would have happened.  Not everyone can live by the motto "I write, I travel, I eat... and I'm hungry... FOR MORE."  There's bills to pay, insecurities to overcome, long, dirty calles in Juarez to get lost in and a white bar with a lone tree out front. Then there's the long walk home (literally, metaphorically) to safety.  But at one time, I would have given anything to eat well, drink well, travel well, write well, and be paid for it.

Now, I wouldn't take that road even if the opportunity opened.  I can't lie, part of me still longs for it--especially to be taken seriously as a writer.  But, I've come to realize I now have something more--something I'm not willing to give up in exchange for even part of that old dream.

This morning, I was reading from Truth Will Prevail from the historical fiction series The Work and the Glory by Gerald N. Lund, which traces the early development of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints through a fictional family's conversion and involvement in it.

For years, I saw those books on my parents shelves and never thought once of picking one up and reading it.  I didn't have anything against the church (other than that I didn't believe it).  I just assumed the books would be literary garbage. I believed (as so many others do) that Mormonism is for the simple minded.   Mormonism and literature simply could not coexist in my mind. Early on, I'd written a poem that summed up my views on the religion I was born into:

The Mormons

Our house
Has avocado colored carpet,
Wallpaper pink,
Soda from the market,
And fresh corn in the sink.

Our mind is mild and cozy.
We always have faith
Because we never think.

Older now, more secure in my own mind, my own abilities, my own culture, I asked my mom if I could have her series of The Work and the Glory.  I didn't expect much, but I opened up the first volume, Like a Fire is Burning, and was immediately pulled in.   

Anyway, this morning I was reading from a portion of Truth Will Prevail, where the son in-law, Carl, who isn't Mormon, accuses the church of actually pulling families apart:

"All right, Carl," Lydia said evenly.  "What is it you find so bothersome about Mormons?"

His chin came up.  The eyes were steady and challenging.  "I think your church tears families apart."

Carl argues that although the church ties families together, it only does this if everyone is Mormon.  If not, it drives a wedge between the family, separating believers from non-believers.

The matriarch of the family, Mary Ann, doesn't argue.  Instead, she shares her own story:

"I'd like to speak of my relationship with Benjamin."  The corners of her mouth softened with the memories of long ago times.  "I loved Benjamin Steed since I first saw him.  He's always been a good man.  But he was also one of the most stubborn men I know.  Hardheaded as a piece of granite.  You met him not long after he joined the church, so you've never really known him except as a Latter-day Saint.  But I can tell you this--the gospel change him, Carl, changed him in ways that I never dreamed were possible.

Tears suddenly welled up, as much to her surprise as to the others'.  "He's so gentle, so much more patient now..."      
  
I know that does happen.  Not necessarily at first.  There can be a lot of inner turmoil when you first commit to live the gospel principles.  Satan works overtime.  This can lead to either inconsistent application of church values (which is what I went through when I first became active again) or it can lead to over-zealous behavior--trying to force family members and others to believe, live and behave just as you (which is what my father did for a while).

But, once you are firm in your Faith, the gospel does change you. Unfortunately, for my older sons, this happened after they no longer lived at home.  I was never a bad parent, but I did have a horrible temper and shouted and yelled a lot, as well as slammed doors and stormed out of the house.  Like Benjamin, I've softened.  I feel at peace.  I felt this way this year even while dealing with a very painful illness for over six months.  

I treat Marci better, I treat my boys better, and I'm more involved in their lives.  Not as much as I should be, but I'm working on it, because I want to work on it.    
In the past, I was mainly good out of guilt.  At one point (long ago) my personal life was a wreck, but I was kind.  Not because I wanted to be.  But out of guilt.  I wanted to redeem myself.  Deep down I didn't like who I was, but I wanted to.  So, I cared about the right things, seeking some sort of redemption.  But, I was always on the edge of lashing out because I wasn't happy with myself.

But as I've drawn closer to God, I want to improve not because I don't like who I am, but because the change feels good and makes me want more of it. I'm more careful with my words, a little better at listening, and desire less for acknowledgement (though there is still some of that) and more for simple involvement in life.  

Perhaps everyone experiences this once they commit to live their religion fully. I don't know.  I only know my own experience.  And having experienced it, I can tell you that is why so many convert to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and remain active.  It works.  It brings happiness.  People change.  Life becomes easier--not because life changes--but because they change.

Of course, this isn't true for everyone.  People do leave the church, and some actively seek to destroy it.  They have their reasons, and I'm not here to discount them.

I feel my only job as a writer is to bear witness--to write on life and the world as I see it, then get it out there the best I can (which I'm not always that successful at) and let others decide for themselves.  This is true whether I'm writing about politics, art or my religion.

If I wasn't Mormon, I'd like to live the life of Anthony Bourdain.  I like writing, I like eating, and I like travel, and I use to like drinking too--a whole lot. But, because I'm Mormon, these days, I'm more concerned with how did I talk to Marci today, or have I spent enough time interacting with my boys.  I'm not where I'd like to be, but I'm moving in the right direction and that feels good, very good.     
  

Marci and Everest, Oregon Coast, December 2008

Tyler, Mitchell, Rio and Everest, Southern California, January 2009