Something in American politics changed this week.
A CIA agent finally blew the whistle on the Trump Crime Family who has taken up residence in the White House.
The tapes brought down Nixon. No, Nixon’s own words on the tapes brought down his presidency. We might have a similar situation where Trump’s own words result in his demise.
But something changed.
A person in a position of authority spoke up. He or she saw corruption at the highest levels of our government and submitted a formal complaint that neither Trump nor his cronies can bribe to make it go away.
We are still in the early innings of this political saga. Grab some popcorn and take a seat. It’s going to be a wild ride.
When many people know something is true, they stop asking questions.
This is especially dangerous when the truth isn’t based on science or provable facts, but rather feelings or hunches. I once belonged to a church that asked its members to pray to God if the church was true. If God gave you a feeling, it was true! If God didn’t give you a feeling, then keep praying until you got an answer.
It all feels so manipulative today.
Millions….no billions of people were born into a religion chosen by their parents or other family members. Many never ask themselves this question: What if the only religion I know isn’t true? Or worse, what if the only religion I know is harmful?
Never stop asking questions. Never stop asking for evidence. Remain involved if the organization is a net positive in your life. But continue to be skeptical. Skepticism isn’t a sign of weakness, rather a sign of intelligence and willingness to change one’s mind.
One thought that helped me step away from my religion was asking myself what the chances were that I was born into the “one true” religion out of the nearly 4200 different religions around the world. From a probability standpoint, I had a .02% chance my parents chose the true religion. This exercise assumes one truth which is absurd on its own.
How do you like your chances?
Both topics to challenging to discuss, especially with those close to us.
I don’t recall my parents talking about politics with their children or with each other. When I was very young, my father worked at a Junior High School, and sometimes he’d take me into his classroom. One time I remember he turned on a black and white TV to listen to the Watergate hearings as he worked.
I assumed my parents were Republicans because they backed Reagan and Bush Sr. And they were Mormon. At an early age, it was made clear to me that Mormons were Republicans. Democrats were dangerous. Nevermind that Nixon was Republican.
It would be many years later while attending the University of Utah that my political views began to lean Democrat. My interest in Mormonism also began to wane as what I was told at church didn’t match up with what I believed or felt inside.
I wonder what path my children will take?
Kim and discuss politics around the home quite often. Religious discussions happen in our home, but not as much as before. If they do, it’s because I bring up the topic. I’m proud that my children are being raised outside of any religion. Young minds are too fertile to taint with religious dogma.
As a parent, I want to allow my children to find their own path. To experiment. To make mistakes. To experience sorrow and joy. I don’t assume my path is the best fit for them.
I’m excited to see what they do with their lives without the pressure of belonging to a certain religion.
When I joined Facebook back in 2006 or 2007, I thought it was new and exciting to connect with friends I hadn’t seen since high school. And it was exciting for a while.
By the time the 2016 election rolled around, Facebook had become a platform to spout your political views and argue with anyone who didn’t espouse them. Rinse and repeat until Trump took over the white house and I’d had enough.
Hello, my old blog!
But I’d changed. I wasn’t in the habit of writing longer posts, and I assumed posts shouldn’t be fleeting, short thoughts like I added to Facebook and Twitter over the past decade.
Then I noticed something that Dave Winer, author of Scripting News, was doing. Each day he was adding one or more short posts to his blog. He might add four or most posts a day and yet none of them would add up to more than a paragraph. Was he treating his blog like one might treat adding content to Facebook or Twitter? I dunno, and I didn’t care.
I found myself coming back to his blog a few times a day. If the content was interesting, who the hell cares about the word count? I decided to do the same last week. I’ve only managed to add a post a day, but they are much shorter than what I used to post.
It feels great to get back to my blog. I’m building something again that doesn’t belong to anyone but me. And I don’t feel any pressure to wait till I have that polished thought to post.
Thanks, Dave, for getting me back on track.
The ability to say, no.
No, don’t touch me like that.
No, I won’t get in your car.
No, I don’t feel comfortable doing that.
When you can say, no, you are in control.
Learn it early. Use it as needed.
What did I sign up for?
What did I commit to?
If I intentionally signed up to perform a task, deliver a product or help a friend, I should do that without much confusion or hesitancy. Both parties are on the same page.
What are you expected to do that you didn’t sign up for?
Are you expected to go to a certain college or study a certain discipline because that’s what would make your family proud?
Are you in a relationship because you’re expected to be? Did you have children when you wanted to or when you felt others expected that of you?
Do you drive a certain brand of car or dress a specific style because that’s what people in your line of work or neighborhood expect?
Do you attend a church because you signed up to attend? Or is it the church of your parents, and you never really considered anything else? For years, I assumed I’d found the only true church and was rocked when I began to research its history.
Did you sign up for your political affiliation, or was it handed down to you?
Consider what you’ve actually signed up to do. Is it what you want? Or are you doing it to please someone else?
It’s not easy to say, “Hey, I didn’t sign up for this.” You may lose friendships. Others will shun you when you step outside their tribe.
But it might be the best thing you ever do.
During my faith transition, I’ve found support in a number of podcasts. Most focus on why the person left their religion which can bring up a number of charged topics. That makes it difficult to share with family and friends who are still involved with the Mormon church.
Then I found the Wardless podcast. They are different because they focus on “what’s next” in a person’s life. And after over five years since my transition, I’m much more focused on “what’s next” than any doctrine or policy concern I had years ago.
Last week, I was invited to tell my story through an interview with Oliver. I’m really proud of how it turned out and have shared it with a number of close friends of various degrees of Mormon belief. Their reaction has been overwhelmingly positive so I’ve decided to share it here with the rest of you.