There is a stone sitting on my heart. I want to disgorge it, to reject it in a peptic tide of embodied catharsis, but it stays, stuck, somewhere under my breastbone, and each time I shift, in vain attempts to find a more comfortable position, it only hurts more.
I am an adult convert to the Mormon church. My conversion was baffling and truly painful to my family, and I understand why— but I believed in the expansive vision I had when I was looking for a home for my soul. The ideas that compelled me step into the warm waters of the baptismal font were expansive; an open canon, personal revelation, a new vision of Eve, recognition of the divine feminine, prophetic guidance, eternal progression, absence of hell, everlasting hope and the reality of continued individual worth beyond death. I fell in love with that expansive cosmology and theology. I still love that part. [Read more…]