Note: This is the first in a weekly series in which we ask someone to reflect on their journey from religious conviction to uncertainty, from dogmatism to doubt. Religion is filled with stories of faith; here we will collect narratives of unbelief. It is my hope that Leaving the Garden will give voice to a variety of travelers at various stages on their journeys.
This week’s contributor is Jana R., blogger extraordinaire, practicing Quaker, cultural Mormon, graduate student and historian of 19th century America and self-described transcendentalist. By way of full disclosure, she is a hot genius woman and my life partner.
The Mormon temple ceremony began with me stepping out of all that was familiar. The event began with me being ushered into a cubicle where I took off all of my clothes, including my stockings, my underwear, and my jewelry except for my engagement ring. I wrapped myself in a bright white sheet and stepped willingly into a room where a group of white-haired women ritually bathed and anointed me to become a queen in my husband’s future celestial kingdom.
Many years later when I decided that to expand my spiritual journey outside of the Mormon church, I again stepped out of familiar routines and embraced the unknown. Up to that point I’d known how to eat and drink, what to wear, what media to avoid, the right way to teach my children about morality, and even how to vote on issues like abortion and gay marriage. What Mormon ways would I keep? Which would I shed? In a literal way, I shed the garments of the church. Metaphorically, I was growing a new skin, a new self.
Sitting in Quaker Meeting one Sunday, contemplating the changes in my life since I’d ceased following Mormonism, I looked out the large plate glass windows that cover one side of our Meeting room. Watching the clouds roll by in the sky I realized the sensation that I, too, was moving. It felt like the first few moments as a plane is taking off on a runway. I leaned back in my seat and pondered the journey ahead. There was the sound of an engine revving around me, a current running through me. I was on my way.
As I took off on my journey, I wondered about the baggage I’d brought along. Did I have everything I need? What was I forgetting? Would I have difficulty communicating with those outside of my LDS community? What if I was homesick?
Now, months later, I still feel like each day is a new step on a path on my journey. I am open to all that is new and unfamiliar. I am curious and eager. I often don the simple garb of a Quaker (jeans, sandals, and peace t-shirts). Yet some days I find that flowy skirts and dangly earrings are more my style. Libraries and bookshops are my temples. I worship in silence in my garden and at home with a cat curled up on my lap.
On my faith journey from the LDS church I lost my dogmatism and my certainty. Along the way I also lost my fear. My only worry now is that I will forget to notice how very brief and lovely is my life and those of the people around me.
6 responses so far ↓
1 Isaac // Jan 5, 2008 at 10:53 pm
Thanks for sharing this.
Because of it’s personal nature I do not have much to add besides to let you know it was read.
One thing did stick out, though, that I wanted to linger on for a moment. You said that on your faith journey you lost your certainty (among other things, but I want to focus on the certainty). I am someone who has spent a lit forming certainties about life.
One of the conclusions I’ve come to over the last couple of months is that one of the things which makes life so wonderful IS the uncertainty. It IS the journey of discovery and rediscovery. I think a lot of people fear the unknown or being uncertain (so I guess your comment about fear is appropriate), but I think that if you embrace that fact that life IS unknown, you can enjoy the exploration that much more.
Or… something like that.
Thanks for sharing.
2 Kevin // Jan 6, 2008 at 2:37 am
I would like to second Isaac’s thanks!
Sharing is awe-some.
3 Joe R // Jan 10, 2008 at 6:29 pm
As one who is having a similar experience, I wonder how your family (particularly your spouse) is taking this journey of yours. I have done my best to open and honest with my wife regarding my new found feelings/understandings about life and faith. She thinks I’m apostate, confused, and struggling, but I couldnt feel more clear thinking, positive, and appreciative of life than I am now.
4 pilgrimgirl // Jan 10, 2008 at 9:38 pm
Isaac and Kevin: thank you for your kind comments.
JoeR: Part of my story that isn’t told in this post is about my marriage. My spouse became disaffected with the church before I did. And it was hell for me. I’ve written on my blog about the difficulties this caused in our marriage.
Some of the relevant posts:
And I Hit Him…
Worth dying for…
And no other…
Let me just say that it will take time and compassion (for both of you). Having been through both roles in this journey now, I can say that it’s much harder to be the spouse of a disaffected member (particularly as a woman, because her salvation is tied to yours) than it is to leave the church yourself–although that’s a hard road in many ways, too.
5 xJane // Jan 11, 2008 at 8:21 am
Your posts about how difficult it was for you when John left give me a glimpse into how my family felt when I left. (Although I was not their husband, I was their child & their “responsibility”.) But I still cannot fathom what causes a person to believe something will happen to someone else’s soul. I understand that something does & I’ve accepted that, but some things still baffle me. Thank you for sharing: here and on your blog
6 Joe R // Jan 12, 2008 at 5:36 am
Thank you for directing me to your other stories. (I had no idea that you were a blogger extraodinaire) That gives me a great deal of insight into what I will likely be experiencing over the next several years.
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