Trying to Let Go

Yesterday, a friend of mine got a tattoo and sent a text to show it to me.  I am pleased that he sent it to me; I am quite confident that I was one of the first people to see it on him.  The tattoo, prominently placed on his left chest, is of the three intersecting circles, circles used by industry to connote that something is radioactive.  He had first gotten a temporary henna tattoo of the circles to determine what kind of reaction he might receive to such an adornment.  He talked to me and others about its implications, and at length decided to get a real one. 

Not a lot of my friends have tattoos.  Nor are many of my friends gay.  But he is now tattooed, he is gay, and he is also HIV-positive, and is a wonderful person.  I care for him.

Reflecting back on my earlier years, I believe that I have not always been so open-minded.  My sheltered and religious upbringing in Utah kept me somewhat insulated from “the world.”  I was really innocent when I was sent to Argentina as a missionary for nearly two years, and only slightly less so raising a family in conservative, homogenous Utah.  I remember that  I was attracted to my wife partly because she was a “California girl,” and I thought that California girls were exciting and different.   I think that moving to California in 1994 was, in part, a conscious move on my part to expand my horizons and to succeed in the “real world.”

Since being sent my friend’s picture, I’ve been pondering this ongoing transition in my life.  Being surrounded by a little bit of everything here in Southern California, and now being in a profession that demands open-mindedness, it is quite something to me that I have come so far.  I find that I can be comfortable in many environments with many different types of people.  What is changing within me?

I recognize that humanity can be open-minded without spirituality, much less a belief in God.  I am grateful for such open-minded people in many lands doing so many good deeds out of the goodness of their hearts and their desire to help others. They are, for the most part, an inspiration to me. 

But for me, I have adopted a paradigm, a belief system if you will, that springs from a spiritual understanding.  I consider that I am no better and no worse than anybody else on the planet.  More importantly, I truly believe that God is no respecter of persons; that He loves everyone equally. 

I believe that He sees me and all of humanity as His children, and as a perfect loving parent, He loves every one of those children, no matter their station in life.  As a parent myself, I care for my four children.  I have tried to love them as best I could, whether they’ve made good or bad choices.  He does that perfectly.

If He loves everyone the same, how can I be better or worse than anybody else?  Should I consider myself worse than my brother Tom whose six children are all active members of the Church?  Should I consider myself better than him because I have a Bachelor’s and Master’s Degree and he doesn’t?   Does God love me less than people with gifted intellects and talents, or less than LDS Church leaders?  Does God love me more than the refugee escaping from war and bloodshed, or more than the man asking for a handout on the off-ramp or on-ramp of the freeway?  Is it possible that God loves me more than my newly-tattooed friend who is gay and is HIV-positive?

NO!  And if He doesn’t consider me better or worse, and He respects all humanity equally, why shouldn’t I do the same? 

I believe that relationships are either horizontal or vertical.  I have come to the conclusion that by making one’s relationship vertical—where there is a better and a worse, a higher and a lower—we physically distance ourselves, or emotionally distance ourselves from one another.  I believe we do that because of anxiety or fear we have of the “other” person, either consciously or subconsciously.  We do not understand “them” and don’t want to.  We do not feel comfortable being vulnerable with “them.”  It is easier to be judgmental and keep our distance so that we don’t have to engage with “them.”  I would propose this to be one of the main reasons why there is war and bloodshed all over God’s earth, why there is prejudice and bigotry, why there has always been a lot of unneeded pain and suffering in the world. 

By working to make one’s relationships more horizontal through surrendering our preconceived notions and being vulnerable—no easy thing to do, to be sure—we can experience great understanding, great humility, great caring, great empathy.  It is becoming quite freeing for me to begin to lose the chains of judgment.  And while I believe that there are some really bad people on the earth, I must be prudent in my judgments of them.

Asking understanding of those who read this blog who do not come from my LDS spiritual orientation, I believe that Jesus Christ, the Savior and Redeemer,  descended below all things in the Garden of Gethsemane and on the Cross at Calvary, so that He might have a more horizontal relationship with us, even though He is God.  I believe that because He took upon himself flesh and dwelt among us, He perfectly knows our pain, our sorrows, our fears, our anxieties.  And again, if He achieved and possesses perfect love and understanding, if He loves people equally, no matter how good or how terrible, rich or poor, black or white, gay or straight, why shouldn’t I attempt to do so as well if I’m trying to be like Him?

I am nowhere near where I ultimately want to end up in this regard.  My journey is full of missteps and judgments.  But, as my blog title indicates, I am in transition.  I am trying to let go.