Let’s Talk Trump

I’m reentering the conversation.

First of all, let me be clear about my church membership. I haven’t left. I guess you could say I’m working my way back, even though I never fully left in the first place. If you were under the impression that I had left, I apologize that I wasn’t fully clear in my previous blog post. It’s just with so many active members vocally celebrating the election of a man who fell under broad LDS condemnation over his misogyny, racism, and general moral inappropriateness during his candidacy, I seriously needed a lot of space.

I could not even be in the same room as anyone in Utah talking politics after November 8. From that time, until the inauguration, the amount of angst I was experiencing multiplied. It got to the point where I studiously avoided Facebook, and I could not even retreat to the relative safety of blogging. I did NOT want to deal with any thoughts or opinions on the man many call our president. I still can’t bring myself say the words president and Trump in the same sentence. (Looks like I just did it–and to be honest, I didn’t like it at all.)

I really struggled with acknowledging the actual validity of this election, when it was so obvious that there was interference, and given the man’s penchant for taking pecuniary advantage of people, I’m sure there was money involved. After all, money talks, and people were listening, especially old white men. And if you are an old white man who is offended by that remark, I have just one question; why are you reading my blog? Continue reading


Make your life spectacular. You know he did.

53e9c2e086289The first thing I thought of when I read about Robin Williams’ death was Neil Perry laying on the floor of his father’s office, while his father shouted “No! Neil, no!” in Dead Poet’s Society.  Robin Williams was an amazingly versatile actor. We loved him in Mork and Mindy.  We loved him in The Fisher King and in Mrs. Doubtfire. He could make us laugh, and he could make us cry. Like Neil Perry, Robin Williams could truly say of his gift,  “I was good. I was very good.”

And like Neil Perry, Robin Williams was sad. He was very sad. He was very much like many of us. He was very much like me. Williams had a vision for life that he couldn’t always make true for himself. His was a vision of happiness.  Mine is a vision of happiness. Ours is a vision of happiness.

Happiness doesn’t always come just because we are successful or we have achieved a goal. Minor set backs can appear as canyons separating us from our next mountaintop, and we find ourselves in the depths of despair.

Depression doesn’t respond to fame and glory. Those of us who suffer from it know how debilitating it can be. And when we see one of our favorites fall to it, we feel it deeply.

It’s hard to say goodbye to one we loved so dearly.  I have no more words, just two borrowed tributes:

o-captainO Captain! My Captain!


O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
                         But O heart! heart! heart!
                            O the bleeding drops of red,
                               Where on the deck my Captain lies,
                                  Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
                         Here Captain! dear father!
                            This arm beneath your head!
                               It is some dream that on the deck,
                                 You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
                         Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
                            But I with mournful tread,
                               Walk the deck my Captain lies,
                                  Fallen cold and dead.

and finally . . .

I’m Back, and I Brought Company

I’m Back, and I Brought Company

Okay, I know it’s  been nearly a year since I last posted anything, and I admit that I have assumed that I am the only one reading this blog anyway, so why bother? The fact that I am the only one reading my blog hasn’t bothered me nearly as much as my admitted (and diagnosed) clinical depression and anxiety disorder have.  In fact, depression and anxiety are the real reason that it has been over a year since I have written anything.

I know I’m not the only one who suffers from these disorders, and they are nothing new to me, or to  many throughout history.  I am not ashamed of them either.  It is what it is, and is part of who I am, like it or not.

Unfortunately, I often come across others who  see these as embarrassing mental illnesses that must be kept in the closet with the dirty laundry and the family skeletons.  I don’t see it that way at all though, because I know I am in good company.  Many well-known individuals who live, or have lived, very public lives suffer from depression. Here are just ten of those prominent people who I happen to think quite highly of: Continue reading