I Learn and Understand a Little Differently and That's OK

I am a person that succeeds very well in situations that require regurgitation of facts.  I can memorize lists.  I can diagram.  I can outline. I can plug numbers into a formula.  All that served me very well in my K-12 years that were mostly about getting the right answers on tests. Application of information and the ability to really understand it, connect with it, and grow from it is harder.  For many years, a belief that there was one right way for everything kept me banging me head against the wall. Everybody else was understanding and feeling something, so that must be the right way.  But I felt nothing.  If you're a fan of musical theatre, listen to this, which pretty much describes how I felt, not in acting classes like the song describes, but in church.  (Plus, Lea Salonga is awesome!) (Also, don't try to be too literal attaching everything in the song to what I'm talking about here.)



That "voice from down in the bottom of my soul" led me to the things that helped me to understand those things that intellectually were easy for me, but I had no connection to.

A few examples.

Trust and Surrender 

It's not uncommon to hear people talk about trusting the Lord or surrendering to his will.  We are taught to do what we can and the atonement will make up for the rest.  (More on the atonement later.) Trust and surrender are extremely difficult concepts for me.  You know where I finally understood and applied it?  Singing.  When I sing for church, I totally let go.  I've done what I can.  I just let the message work through me and trust that people will hear and feel what their souls need at that moment. Unfortunately, bringing into other areas of my life is harder, but at least I have a model now.  I know what I am working for.

Feeling the Spirit

I can't tell you how many church meetings I have been to where afterward people were talking about how strong the Spirit was in that meeting.  And I sat there thinking, "Really?  Where was I?"  Then a few years ago, I had an amazing experience and suddenly thought, "This is what they are talking about!"  But it wasn't at church.  It was at a World Tai Chi and Qigong Day celebration.  I was feeling love, and the incredible energy and presence of the people there.  Later, I wrote a poem, posted it on my blog,  and purposely left the situation that inspired it vague.  It could be about church, or it could be about singing (and sometimes does fit for me for singing), but it wasn't about either of those.  It was about that first day I felt it and feeling it again at other tai chi events.  

Mormons talk a lot about a "burning in the bosom" as a sign of the Holy Ghost testifying of a truth.  Driving home from an incredible qigong workshop, I was thinking about a comment the instructor had made about how at one point his qi had been so strong that it felt like it was burning.  I laughed out loud as I finally made the connection to the burning bosom thing.  Qi is energy, life force, and it is strongest when we are in harmony and at peace with ourselves and with all around us.  Isn't that truth?  Why can't feeling strong qi be the same thing as feeling the Spirit?  

Prayer

Let me take a moment to share some ways that prayer has been a problem for me.  First, all the formalities get in the way for me.  If this is supposed to be about building a relationship with Jesus Christ and our Heavenly Father, why does it have to be so formal?  Most people would answer that it is formal to show respect.  I get that, but for me the formalities put up a wall between me and God.  My need to do it the right way (because I always tried to do everything exactly as I was instructed) kept me from true, heart-felt prayer.  

Second, people say to imagine that you are talking to a friend on the phone.  Uh... No.  I hate the phone.  I much prefer to communicate in person or through writing.  

Third, my own messed up brain sometimes speaks louder than God.  When God calls you names that you can't print in a family friendly blog and follows that with, "Talk to me after you've done all the stuff your leaders already told you to do," you can be pretty sure that it isn't God speaking to you.  

So I've parted ways with the formulaic prayer--formal address, thank, ask, formal closing, listen--and I'm doing it my way.  And my spirituality is growing in leaps and bounds.  

One  solution--a meditation during a qigong class.  Seriously, these have been some of the most spiritual and the most powerful experiences of my life.  And it's all because of the words that our teacher chooses as she leads us through the mediation.  The funny thing is, I bought a video that my teacher's teacher produced, and when she gives instructions about the meditation, she actually uses the word "prayer" and I totally disconnect.  It is not anywhere near as beautiful an experience as when my teacher leads us through the Kwan Yin Closing.  In Chinese folklore, Kwan Yin is the goddess of compassion.  No, you don't need to panic.  I'm not praying to another god.  But I love the stories of Kwan Yin and what she represents.   And this movement/meditation carries her name.  It takes about 3-5 minutes, but could be longer or shorter depending on need.  Except for the voice of the teacher, it is all silent.  

These are the parts of the Kwan Yin Closing that have taught me about prayer.   

I love thanking the people that have helped me on my healing journey. Taking that moment to reflect on where I am and who helped me get here is very powerful.  (Yes, I know I've used that word about 5,000 times in this post, but it is the word that fits the best.)  There are a few people and certain event that come to mind every time I do this, but often, something new surfaces, something else or someone else that I need to be thankful for.  

We send love and healing energy to someone we know who is in need.  We visualize that person as fully capable of dealing with whatever it is they are facing.  

We send love and healing out to the world, allowing it to go where ever it is needed most.  

We release ourselves to be of service to the world.  I love that word "release".  It's not pledge. It's not commit.  It's not challenge.  It is release and it is incredibly freeing and motivating.  

We send healing energy to the earth itself.  

Atonement

This is a big one, the central one actually in Christian churches.  And yes, I do understand that none of us will ever fully comprehend it all, but I didn't get any of it.  My heart didn't understand why it was necessary.  I could write a book about what I have been taught about the atonement, but I just didn't get it.  Maybe I still don't, but I've come up with a new definition (again, inspired by my non-church learning) that works very well for me with where I am spiritually right now.  

Atonement is empathy across time and space (Jesus' taking on all the pains and sins of the world while in the Garden of Gethsemane) creating a oneness, a wholeness, and a unity which enables us to transform any sin, weakness, pain, or sorrow into something better and stronger. The Atonement is empathy and transformation. It's that simple. Christ understood a sacred principle and showed us how to apply it.

Repentance

Again, I could write a book with all that I know intellectually about this, but there is no soul connection.    For now, I'm happy with using an approach that works well with singing and tai chi.  I'm not perfect.  There will be things that I do that are not quite what I would like them to be. First, I acknowledge what it is that I am doing well.  Then with presence, intention, and compassion, I try again.  That's it.  That is as far as I'm going with the whole repentance thing.  

If my life is not what you think it should be, have patience.  I learn some things very quickly.  And sometimes, things that are easy for other people to learn are very difficult for me.  I may take longer than most, and I may approach life and learning from a completely different angle than you do, but it's OK.  I am exactly where I need to be right now, doing exactly what I need to do.  

Trust and Change

Trust and change--two things I'm not very good at, but am being forced to learn to deal with.

Sometimes, I think the Lord uses my talents to remind me who is really in charge. And the funny part is that this is one of the few areas of my life that I feel I can completely turn over to Him, where I can give up control.

I sang with the choir in Stake Conference today, and have 4 other small performances in the next two weeks--all of them church related. I've been struggling with allergy-related laryngitis, but I'm not worried. I know that if the Lord needs me to sing, that whatever I can do will be enough and he will take care of the rest. It always works that way when I sing for church. Tomorrow I am singing at the funeral of a dear sweet woman that I have jokingly referred to as the president of my fan club. She has always been so kind to me and supportive of my singing. She has asked me to sing in her ward many times and I loved looking out into the congregation and seeing her smiling back at me. It will be strange not to see that tomorrow. I will miss her, but I would never miss the opportunity to sing for her funeral. I'm singing "O Divine Redeemer" which is not easy when I'm healthy, but my only concern is not getting too emotional. She had a strong testimony of the Savior and the Atonement which is what this song is all about.

I don't know why it is so easy for me to trust regarding singing, but so hard in other areas of my life. Maybe because my relationship with music is so different from other things in my life, but that's a post for another day.

I don't deal well with change. I know it is important, and I make do, but I don't like it. Today, due to boundary changes, we sustained a new stake presidency. I'm sure that the work will go on and all will be well, but I will miss the stake president that was released. He was an anchor for me. When I moved closer to work, I made the final choice about apartments based on which one would leave me in this stake. I've gone to Stake Conference meetings even when I felt horrible because I knew that what he had to say would be important to me, and the way in which he would say it would make sense to me (that doesn't happen often for me with church). I will miss his strength.

I also learned recently that a friend will be moving (if they can sell their house). This change is another that I am not looking forward to. I have been too busy in my own life lately to be a good friend. Perhaps that is part of the sorrow here--lost opportunity.