Sunday, March 30, 2008

I Feel Pretty...

You thought this was going to be about a musical, right? "I Feel Pretty" from West Side Story. Yep, I knew it. Well, I'm sorry to say that this is not about a musical - unless there is some musical about my life out there. No, this is about how dumb I feel after getting up in church today and RAMBLING on about stuff I was thinking about.

According to the unwritten rules of The Church, I was supposed to get up there and say the things that I was thinking/feeling that would make everyone feel good and spiritual. Well, I somehow missed reading those unwritten rules this morning before going to church, and well, I just kinda went round in circles about things that DIDN'T make everyone feel good and spiritual. In fact, I think they kinda made people feel guilty - which I did NOT want to do! (Maybe guilty is not the right word, but maybe I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me, so guilty is the next worst alternative that they could feel.)

What did I say? Well, I'm not exactly sure. See, there was a little girl in our ward who had a tumor on her brain that they just found last Monday. She ended up having surgery and all is well, so her parents got up and thanked everyone for their prayers & fasting & thoughts & food & etc. While thinking about that story, I started relating the physical problems she had to the spiritual problems that someone very close to me is having. (I won't mention names, because the person I am thinking of has a name that starts with a Z, and that is at the end of the alphabet... and it will take too long to... um... do something, blah, blah, blah!) Perhaps I took my Adderall too late this morning, or it could be that I am on some manic high at the moment, but whatever the reason, I just starting thinking too deeply or too widely and decided that I wished that there were a way for me to take my baby to the doctor and to get some surgery to remove the spiritual tumor that has been growing as of late. So... THAT is what I got up and said. Amid tears, mind you. I said that I wished someone could bring me dinner, or that I could send out an e-mail asking for help in his behalf, but that I didn't feel like I could. (Then I quickly said "please, don't bring me dinner!" - which was even dumber of me to say! lol) All in all, I suppose the thing that came across was that there are spiritual needs (not just mine) that are actually much worse in the long run than a brain tumor (which is NOT what I feel really - because a tumor in a child is pretty much HORRIBLE!), and we don't seem to give those problems nearly the same amount of attention or thought or action as a ward or as a group of friends.

I guess that is what came across, because I have already had three people talk to me about what I said. Two gave me hugs, and one called me to thank me for saying what I said. Please, not PITY! I hope it is not out of PITY! I don't want to take away attention from anyone! I just have a problem that I don't know how to handle. I want some help - and I don't know how to ask for it, and I don't know what to ask for. I don't know how to fix this problem.

Somehow I think I may have said things that will offend people - especially the parents of the little girl. Oh how I wish I would have said NOTHING.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Spiritual disease--spiritual tumor. Such a poignant image. It captures the shock of discovery, the helplessness of grief. The longing that the tumor will subside, that the diagnosis is mistaken.
And in the end, only the prayer of Alma. "I have tried my best," I'm sure he said, "and now I turn it to you to touch my son." Time passes--then an angel is dispatched and a life changes.
How many years did the father pray? Did he expect an answer in this life?

Annie

Thotman said...

As a totally objective observer of the recounting of your "saying something"...It occurs to me that you may have been trying to make sense out of things that just couldn't at that moment, or possibly don't make much sense. I read a book once..I think it was called (I ain't well baby but I sure am Better)...by a guy named Jess Lair---something about mutual need therapy...in which he says we need to have ONE or TWO real friends we can talk to. Apparently so we can "say something" and get feedback which really means something. Ordering our thots before a group is fundamentally self defeating for its lack of REAL and tangible feedback. Finding answers to life's problems is a very personal quest. Sometimes it takes a senile old man to rename you (as Don Quixote renamed Aldonza Dulcinea) and with whom you can plead to remember his idealization of you so it stays REAL... or a friend to just sit and listen like Ninny Threadgoode (Jessica Tandy) found Evelyn(Kathy Bates)in Fried Green Tomatoes... It seems to me so strange that you are/were surrounded by so many people but you were effectively alone in your struggle. That is what stuck me... I don't care what anyone says about any venue for expression... before anything else it has to be PERSONAL so you feel good about ordering your thots. After all what are we if not a composite of all our thots...blended all together (as you so aptly described) or carefully stacked like books on a shelf...It should always be a project with someone who really understands you and cares about your very being.

Gretchen. said...

Interesting thots, Thotman. Honestly, I felt very safe saying whatever I wanted/needed to say in that venue (normally), but for some reason I was feeling (as you said) very alone at that point. So much has changed since that time, but I do remember the frustration I felt with fact that the things that should be MOST important in that religious setting weren't.

I remember thinking, "is this all just a big lie?"

FB is my REAL friend now. ;)