Heavier Boots

I've got some heavy boots, and today they're feeling heavier (only people who've read Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close will fully appreciate that lovely metaphor).

Today I went to an interfaith dialogue where the Most Reverend Bishop of Salt Lake (aka the highest-ranking Catholic authority in Utah) came to the LDS Institute of Religion at UVU. I have mad connections so I got to go to lunch with him and ask some questions.

He was an absolutely lovely man and had deeply insightful things to say.  I generally feel very alone on my life's road (because I am just that dramatic, but all the same I'm being sincere). I don't feel the necessity to do anything to please others (most of the time, when confronted, I do the opposite-- because I'm just that immature), I don't need people to agree with me, I don't mind being questioned and doubted in any aspect of my life, most specifically in my religious prerogatives; in fact I expect it. I don't enjoy it, but I expect it.

For a few beautiful hours today I felt like, maybe just maybe, life didn't need to be so lonely, that maybe people with differing opinions could live harmoniously together, okay with the other's right to live and believe, and vote and stand up for whatever they want for their lives and communities.  That we would allow each their own right to govern their actions by their own consciences and education.

My boots became light.  For a moment.

But then the backlash typical to situations in which Mormons and Catholics publicly confess their beliefs happened. People went on and on in protest of our beliefs and went on and on about how the world won't be a peaceful place until people "like them" (Mormons like me) "went away" (whatever that entails).

One woman wrote a three paragraph response going on and on about how people, like Mormons and Catholics, and our desire to "convert everyone and make everyone the same" is what is wrong with the world today. She then went on to explain that it won't be until everyone gives up religion and its restrictions and we all just embrace spirituality that there will be true happiness and peace.  Now, I'm all for her right to be as "spiritual" as she wants, and as separate from established religion as she wants, but can I just take a moment to point out the irony (if not downright hypocrisy) of her statement. Her main complaint is that people, like me (a Mormon), try to tell everyone that there is only one right way, and that everyone ought to think like us... wait... isn't that exactly what she wants? But for everyone to believe how she believes?

It's rare to come across a person who is actually tolerant of others. As Russell Brand once pointed out that you can't be tolerant if you are intolerant of perceived intolerance. (Now I'm not talking about the people who kill people or commit any level of violence, but in general.)

My boots are heavy again, much heavier than they were before. I feel isolated by the people who accuse me (by association) of isolating others.  I feel hated and judged by those who accuse me of hating and judging.

Why is it when one past minority grasps higher ground their first instinct is to turn and kick the ones who used to be higher? Didn't you once dream of mutual peace and happiness? Or did you just dream of giving what you "got"?  I guess I just don't understand what there is to be done when no one will let us try to come together to find a middle ground.

It doesn't help anyone to try and prove them wrong, so please stop, you're handing out heavy boots.