Many months back the wife and I had a bit of a rowe. She was mad. And, at the time, I was not a liberty to discuss the details. Now... it just doesn't matter. But, I promised so here goes...
After months of entertaining the wife's visiting teachers the wife finally agreed to have her church membership canceled. You see, she would make an appointment with these two wonderful ladies, and then just blow them off. Now, I really liked one of her visiting teachers (Hi terry), but they were not there for me since I had resigned my membership back in 1997. I smiled and chatted with them and they looked puzzled (and somewhat uncomfortable with the non-member husband) when Angie was never there. They usually brought treats (cookies and brownies) and I was always VERY appreciative (since the wife's baking skills end exactly where they begin). But after a few minutes of hemming and hawing they would make a quick exit. I was left to fume because I knew how uncomfortable it was for them, and how much a waste of time it was for me. Finally, after hearing me bitch about it for the umpteenth time, she caved and said she should resign.
Anyhoo... The agreement was simple. As soon as she agreed I typed up the exit letter... she signed it... I sealed it into an addressed, stamped envelope... and then it was placed on the kitchen counter to wait until we were about to move... and then (and only then)... it would be mailed and done. The wife did NOT want to leave the church while her mother was still living close by and in the ward. She was scared that she would find out and her feelings would be hurt.
The stress came when, about 3 months later, a response letter came from the LDS church. They don't send a response letter unless they have a resination request. Somehow her letter had been mailed out. I got the mail and recognized the letter immediately. When she got home from work I gave her the letter from the LDS church records dept. She was furious. She used language that was not very lady-like. She obviously thought I had mailed her exit letter in order to expadite my wishes for us to be DONE with the cult. However, I didn't do it. I attempted to defend myself, but she was having NONE of it. I walked on eggshells for quite some time. Needless to say we are ex-momormons together, and I LOVE THAT WOMAN!
In the end, no one really cared. The one's that took interest were delighted that she had done it. I don't know if her mother even knows now. I really don't think she would care. My Mother-in-law is one of those great people who has her own opinions... and expects others to have theirs. The wife is still agnostic leaning toward theistic, and that is all her mother would really care about.
So... the cat is out the bag. Its a kitten really. But, boy did it cause me headaches for a while.
I bought a new tree. Its a simple ash (see picture above). Its young and came in a 5 gal container. Throughout the years this baby will grow from the 8 ft. wimp it is; into a 60 ft. shade throwing juggernaut. Exciting isn't it. I gotta go hug that sucker just one more time before bed. MMM....
HH =)
6 comments:
I love the image I know have and will keep forever of the visiting teachers coming by each month with treats only to get you, the heathen ex. Great stuff.
I have no idea what Angie was thinking. Does she ever talk to Mom? I wish you'd have brought this up while I was out there. I think I could've set her straight--or probably not, but I would've liked to try.
Anyway, congrats on the new tree.
Didn't get near enough time to catch up with y'all last time I was out there, so I may try again in August--that is, unless you all come out to Denver.
it's great that it turned out okay with the letter . . .
But the tree is great . . that'll last longer than any personal religious commitment.
CV Rick
Speaking of trees, here's a nice essay by Herman Hesse:
Trees by Hermann Hesse
Trees have always been the most effective preachers
for me. I revere them when they live in nations and
families, in forests and groves. And I revere them
even more when they stand singly. They are like
solitaries. Not like hermits who have stolen away out
of some weakness, but like great, isolated men, like
Beethoven and Nietzsche. The world murmurs in their
tops, their roots rest in the infinite; however, they
do not lose themselves in it but, with all the energy
of their lives, aspire to only one thing: to fulfill
their own innate law, to enlarge their own form, to
represent themselves.
Nothing is more sacred, nothing is more exemplary than
a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree has been sawed
off and shows its naked mortal wound to the sun, one
can read its whole history on the bright disc of its
stump and tombstone; in its annual rings and
cicatrizations are faithfully recorded all struggle,
all suffering, all sickness, all fortune and
prosperity, meager years and luxuriant years, attacks
withstood, storms survived. And every farm boy knows
that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest
rings, that, high in the mountains and in ever-present
danger, the most indestructible, most powerful, most
exemplary tree trunks grow.
Trees are santuaries. He who knows how to speak to
them, to listen to them, learns the truth. They do not
preach doctrines and recipes, they preach the basic
law of life, heedless of details.
A tree speaks: In me is hidden a core, a spark, a
thought, I am life of eternal life. The experiment and
throw (of the dice) that the eternal mother ventured
on me is unique, unique is my shape and the system of
veins in my skin, unique are the slightest play of
foliage at my top and the smallest scar in my bark. It
is my office to shape and show the Eternal in the
distinctively unique.
A tree speaks: My strength is trust. I know nothing of
my fathers, I know nothing of the thousand children
which come out of me every year. I live the mystery of
my seed to the end, nothing else is my concern. I
trust that God is within me. I trust that my task is
sacred. In this trust I live.
When we are sad and can no longer endure life well, a
tree can speak to us: Be calm! Look at me! Life is not
easy, life is hard. These are childish thoughts. Let
God talk within you and they will grow silent. You are
anxious because your road leads you away from your
mother and your home. But every step and day lead you
anew to your mother. Home is neither here nor there.
Home is inside you or nowhere.
A yearning to wander tears at my heart when I hear
trees rustling in the wind in the evening. If one
listens quietly and long, the wanderlust too shows its
core and meaning. It is not a wish to run away from
suffering, as it seemed. It is a yearning for home,
for the memory of one¢s mother, for new symbols of
life. It leads homeward. Every road leads homeward,
every step is birth, every step is death, every grave
is the mother.
Thus the tree rustles in the evening when we are
afraid of our own childish thoughts. Trees have long
thoughts, long in breath and calm, as they have a
longer life than we. They are wiser than we, as long
as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned
to listen to trees, the very brevity and swiftness and
childish haste of our thoughts acquire an incomparable
joy. He who has learned to listen to trees no longer
desires to be a tree. He does not desire to be
anything but that which he is. That is home. That is
happiness.
Shane, I loved this:
"Home is neither here nor there.
Home is inside you or nowhere." Nothing sums ups the core of emotional suffering than this. The vast majority of time I spend in therapy is teaching individuals this one simple lesson (love thyself. Then, and only then, will all other love be possible). Love is being home. Emotional and spiritual emptiness are simply the absence of being "at home" with the self.
Funny... some may speculate that your wanderlust is a longing to find something missing within yourself. I know that you wander because you know that you are home within yourself regardless of where you travel. Diversity and cultural immersion seem to charge you... add to the calmness I sense whenever I am in your presence. It is joy to have you in my life my friend.
HH
I love what you guys wrote about trees and self-love here.
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