Fine Tuning the Machine

"Everything is connected. Separation is an illusion."

Is that true? I think so. All seems connected to me.

If true, then there is no division between our mind, body, and spirit. Mind IS body IS spirit. Hambone connected to the thigh bone connected to the brain bone, etc.

So if I'm going to fine tune the spirit, gonna have to fine tune the body, and vice versa.

Nine months ago, I saw a picture of myself on the beach with my kids in Tampa from the previous year. Truly humbling. There it was, bulging over my waistline in all it's middle aged glory. My gut.

I've always considered myself fundamentally skinny. Scrawny, actually, and I would say that description has been apt for virtually my whole life. I was Daniel Laruso taking on the Cobra Kai of life. I'd been between 165 and 172 lbs for as long as I remembered, regardless of my diet and exercise patterns. I've generally eaten healthy, exercised fairly regularly, and I just stayed the same. Always had. Always would.

At least that's what I thought. But this picture of me on the beach begged to differ. That was a gut, my friend. That was abdominal fat. That weren't skinny no more.

My encroaching middle-agedness had reset my metabolism without my permission, and I had gained an extra 10 lbs, a slow creep that had occurred over the last 3-4 years. I looked in the mirror one day after a shower and realized that I had become Flabby Man. Wasn't giving my wife much to look at.

Luckily, this blunt epiphany coincided with one of my chief 40th year goals: running a marathon. I started training, and I had new motivations. Spring was in the air. I started jogging 4 days a week, continued playing basketball the other three days, I felt my fitness level improving. I had a heroic turn in the Colfax Marathon Relay, where I ran the anchor leg and improved our team's place by 139 positions. I ran the Bolder Boulder a few weeks later in a personal best time. But the gut wasn't going away.

And then something else happened. Playing basketball one day, I went to throw an overhead pass and felt a stabbing pain in my left shoulder. It resolved within minutes, but soon began recurring everytime I attempted an overhead throwing motion or full extension of my left arm, which was a bummer but which of course didn't stop me from launching threes from the cheap seats.  I'm right handed after all.

Soon I put two and two together. I had a rotator cuff tendonitis. As I was improving my cardio fitness, I was atrophying in my upper body strength, something I'd never had much of to begin with. My full theory is that my infraspinatus muscle of the rotator cuff had taken a major hit when I had my left sided cervical disc herniation, which led to my discovery of kidney cancer. The weakened innervation led to muscle atrophy, for which my other rotator cuff muscles had compensated until they began to atrophy as well. My cardio training had pushed my weak rotator cuff over some threshold. (That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.) A gut, shoulder pain, cancer: dude, I was getting old! Not even 40 yet.

I have a friend who is a PT, and he did great work with dry needling and targeted exercises to strengthen the weak rotator cuff. I noticed a pretty immediate improvement.

But a lifetime of inattention to my upper body fitness was still catching up to me. I wanted to start lifting weights. but I really didn't know how to craft a work out that would meet my needs: build upper body strength while rehabbing a shoulder injury and simultaneously training for a marathon. I called a local gym and spoke to their personal trainer. He immediately dismissed me: "What you're asking is impossible. I can't help you."  Well, okay then.

So I called a different trainer, and this time I struck the jackpot: Mick. Mick fits the archetype of friend-mentors of my life. Guys in their mid-50s who have bucked the status quo, possess an inherently holistic approach to life, and have achieved success and balance amidst suffering. I doubt I could have a found a trainer more in sync my goals and my general philosophy of life. I told Mick I didn't want to be huge, just toned and balanced. Unlike the other guy, Mick was on the job. Mick hits the core hard. He does mostly body weight exercises and plyometrics. He focuses on nutrition as equally important to reach my goals. I've found him to be inspiring, challenging, adaptive and supportive.

For three months now, I've been working with Mick about once a week. It's been challenging, educational and exhilarating. I'm pleased with the results.  Are you?

I wish. Now, I'm never going to be muscular, but I feel stronger, more balanced and toned than ever before. The gut is mostly gone. Still working on the six pack abs. More of a hot water bottle right now, but getting there. My wife seems to like the results. Bonus.

The trick now will be maintaining, especially after the marathon and through the winter months. (I'll be heading back to basketball at that point, which is--almost literally--the only thing that can get me out of bed at 5:40 a.m. on a winter morning.) But unlike at any other time in my life, I feel like I have the basic knowledge and motivation to keep at it. I've gotten myself off the launching pad. Just got to steer the rocket now.

There are several other important facets of my goal to optimize physical health, namely healthy eating, healthy sleep, meditation, and yoga twice a week. (Flexibility is not a natural ability I have, so improving my flexibility through yoga has both literal and metaphorical value to me.) I'll share more on these components at another time.

I'm getting to bed tonight. Gotta rest. We'll see if Mark version 40.0 can reclaim his title in the illustrious Shaffer Stampede 5K tomorrow morning.

Edit:  I did indeed reclaim the Shaffer Stampede title today, against a field of 50 or so people, primarily composed of children and octogenarians. Funny thing: my goal was to get 20 minutes or below. Result? 20 minutes and 0 seconds. Mission accomplished. Barely. But still a win.

Blinded by the Light

Here's a song I wrote called "Blinded by the Light."
It's about the confusion that often follows a moment of clarity.

(Performed today at Columbine United Church)

Blinded By The Light

by Mark Foster

Last night I dreamt that I was trapped in a cave

The writing on the wall said that this would be my grave

If I did not find the exit

So I scratched and clawed and kicked until it cracked

Into the darkness came a sliver of light

And I tore the wall around it ‘til it rushed in so bright

That I had to shield my eyes

And I could see no more than when it had been black

But I woke this morning

And I looked out my blinds

There was nothing up ahead of me

And nothing behind

I’ve been blinded by the light

I’ve been blinded by the light

Last night I woke when I was lost in a dream

Sat beside my bed and then stepped into the stream

Of human consciousness

I felt connected to every other heart and mind

That brilliant light began to overwhelm

I fell to my knees asked God to take the helm

I closed my eyes to pray

And that silence and that darkness was divine

But I woke this morning 

And I lifted my shade

I saw seven billion monkeys

Marching in a parade

I’ve been blinded by the light

I’ve been blinded by the light

Blinded by the light

My wandering led me to a fork in the road

There was safety to my right if I could just crack the code

I gave them signs and tokens

But what they wanted was my money and my brain

Had to keep my head so I did not choose the right

I took the tunnel to my left and then I saw the light

And I ran ahead to meet it

When underneath I felt the rumblings of a train

I woke this morning,

And I hit rewind

And found the angel I’ve been following 

Was equally blind.

I’ve spent my whole life dreaming in black and white

Until the colors of the rainbow knocked me clean out of sight

I’ve been blinded by the light

I’ve been blinded by the light

Installing A New Program

Over the next twelve months I will be reporting through this blog on a self-imposed, intentional, semi-structured spiritual journey:  my attempt to carve out meaning and purpose for my shortening life as it unfolds within this universe of fundamental uncertainty.

Maybe that sounds a bit highbrow. In my mind it seems simpler, more like this: over the next year I'm going take this tangled knot of life experiences I've been given and try to make some sense out of it. I'm going to do it putting myself through the paces of physical and spiritual discipline.

There will be lots of unlearning going on, for sure. But honestly, I'm not starting from scratch. (Is anything ever really from scratch?) I'm taking the lessons I've learned through education, indoctrination, lived experience, inspiration and intuition, and trying to lay them out in a comprehensible way, thus creating a map of sorts of how I got from there to here, and maybe, just maybe, catch a glimpse where this path is heading next.

There are a lot of books, myths, stories, religions, icons, all people or organizations who claim to have it figured out. But here's the thing: I don't trust any of them. Not completely. That's not because they're not trustworthy, but rather because they're human, just like me. They're looking through this same glass darkly. As previously stated, I don't anticipate finding "The Way," or the One True Church, or to be blinded by sudden revelation of all truth. I don't think it works that way. I'm searching for a deeper understanding, a motivating paradigm, an inner peace. That would be more than enough. Is it possible? Can I trust anyone? That's what I'm trying to figure out.

One important point here:  "spiritual," as I'm going to use it, does not mean "religious." Not at all. My current sense of spirituality is this: the conscious cultivation of mindfulness, integrity, tolerance, humility, courage, compassion and creativity. Put more simply: soul power, baby.

Here's what Albert has to say about it: 

“A human being is part of a whole, called by us the ‘Universe’ —a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts, and feelings, as something separated from the rest—a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.”

 -- Albert Einstein

That's pretty cool stuff, so I think I will come back to this quote as a reference point for my progress.

Now here's the evolving outline of my self-imposed program:

Starting Assumptions and Motivating Hypotheses

(These may or may not be true, but they're a start . . .)

• "It's all one thing." Separation is an illusion. Everything is connected. 
• It's all energy, and energy never dies.
• God is a metaphor for love.
• We, along with the universe, are in constant evolution.
• Now is forever, and forever is now.

The Welcome to Uncertainty Program

Physical Goals

• Regular vigorous exercise.  
• Challenging outdoor adventures and competitions to keep me motivated. (First order of business:  run a marathon in October.)
• Maintain muscle tone and upper body strength.  (Working with a trainer to achieve this.)
• Yoga twice weekly to maintain core strength and balance.
• Eat a healthy diet rich is fresh fruits and veggies. Limit fast food and junk food.
• Maintain healthy sleep habits.
• Regular rest days to allow recovery.
• Desired outcome: I will be in the best physical shape of my life after turning 40.

Mental Goals

• Read, study, review and reflect upon twelve to twenty books of spiritual significance, such as the Baghavad Gita, the New Testament, and a variety of New Age philosophy, Secular Humanism, and Psychology, as well as some fiction. (I think I will probably re-read the Book of Mormon as part of this line-up. Right now I am finishing The Demon Haunted World, by Carl Sagan, and just read The Giver by Lois Lowry which I read for fun so that I could see the movie with my son. The book was okay, but the movie was profound.)  This list is still being compiled, and I will share it soon.
• Meditation:  maintain a daily, weekly, and monthly meditation schedule.  (First order of business:  take a weekend meditation retreat at the Shambalah Center in Boulder, Colorado.)
• Desired outcome:  I will become more informed about the great spiritual traditions and distill them into pratical applications to further my own progress.

Emotional Goals

• Meditation program as above.
• Stress reduction through meditation, exercise, healthy eating, etc.
• Avoid emotional toxins. 
• Maintain balance and positive energy.
• I have never worked with a licensed counselor or therapist, but I am considering doing so for the experience of it, to assist me on all of the above.  To be determined . . .
• Desired outcome:   I will develop increased tolerance, patience, and empathy. I will learn to let go of pain, anger and suffering. I will develop greater awareness of my surroundings and of others. I will become more emotionally available to my wife and children. I will strike a more comfortable balance between ambition and acceptance. 

Social Goals

• Explore different congregations and gatherings, including secular humanism, Unitarian Universalism, and Buddhism.
• Nurture my marriage, my relationships with my children, and my friendships by consciously creating time, space, and emotional availability on a daily and weekly basis.
• Semi-structured weekly coffee chats / spiritual discussions with a select group of friends and mentors. This is a major part of my plan. More to come on this soon.
• Engaging with various post-mormon support groups and email exchanges with others who are following a similar path.
• Communicating my experiences with the others.through social media and this blog.
• Desired outcome:  I will consciously and consistently communicate with others to strengthen my sense of connection in this vast universe, to broaden my perspective, and to help others successfully navigate their journey through life.

Service Goals

• Conscious effort to perform random acts of kindness daily.
• Weekly and monthly service projects and donations of my time to schools, churches, and community organizations.
• Financially supporting organizations that are meaningful to me.
• Desired outcome:  I will get out of my own head, forget my first world problems, and get to work serving others.  Jesus said it best: Lose yourself to find yourself. And Mother Theresa said it this way: "Never worry about numbers. Help one person at a time and always start with the person nearest you."

Reality Check:

• I have bills to pay, a family to raise, a job to perform, patients to care for, responsibilities in the community and schools. I don't have the luxury of extra time or money to spend doing all of these things at the expense of my "real life." I feel pretty overwhelmed as it is. But this is kind of the point: striking this balance in a sustainable way. Merging the ideal with the real. Fortunately, I've already incorporated many of these things into the basic structure of my life: exercise, yoga, family time, Sunday church exploration, coffee chats, reading, healthy eating, service opportunities, etc. I will definitely have to trim some fat elsewhere to get the rest of it done. What I've listed above seems formidable but not insurmountable. I'm going to hold myself accountable for these things, but I'm not going to beat myself up if I don't get it all done. I'm just going to do the best I can day by day, with the bigger picture in mind.

But I guess that gets to three related points:

• First: Whatever grand truths I may discover on this journey will be pointless if not ultimately practical. I think of the old Buddhist proverb: "Before enlightenment?  Chop wood, carry water.  After enlightenment? Chop wood, carry water." Man, we are in the thick of it! All the time! We can prepare for and enjoy brief reprieves, but still gonna have to go to work the next day. So gotta keep it simple, practical, sustainable.
• Second: I am aware that this process can seem somewhat selfish, or at least self-centered. I suppose by its very nature it is. I'm trying to emphasize for myself the importance of service, outreach, and family and social connection. This whole process does me no good if I become snooty, intolerant, and/or isolated from friends and family. But it's my theory that if I increase my spirituality as described, that I will become a much better husband, father, friend, brother, son, neighbor, doctor and citizen of the world. "Be the change you wish to see in the world."  Gonna try, Mr. Gandhi. Gonna try.
• Last:  After all of this searching/seeking/questing/questioning, I may well return to most the basic truth of all:  look inside to find my truth. Once again our friend the historical Jesus said it best: "The kingdom of God is within you." Amen, brother.

Creating order out of chaos


"In the deepest within, the most infinite beyond.  In ever-present awareness, your soul expands to embrace the entire Kosmos, so that Spirit alone remains, as the simple world of what is.   The rain no longer falls on you, but within you; the sun shines from inside your heart and radiates out into the world, blessing it with grace; supernovas swirl in your consciousness, the thunder is the sound of your own exhilarated heart; the oceans and rivers are nothing but your blood pulsing to the rhythm of your soul.  Infinitely ascended worlds of light dance in the interior your brain; infinitely descended worlds of night cascade around your feet; the clouds crawl across the sky of your own unfettered mind, while the wind blows through the empty space where your self once used to be.  The sound of the rain falling on the roof is the only self you can find, here in the obvious world, where inner and outer are silly fictions and self and other are obscene lies, and ever-present simplicity is the sound of one hand clapping madly for all eternity.  In the greatest depth, the simplest what is, and the journey ends, as it always does, exactly where it began.”

--Ken Wilbur,

 from "Integral Psychology: Consciousness, Spirit, Psychology, Therapy"

Gratitude

An eclectic group of good friends and family, zesty food, pleasant late summer weather, spectacular natural ambience framed by towering red rocks and lush green meadows, a group hike, lots of love:  this was my 40th birthday party this weekend. Thanks to my wonderful wife for planning and pulling it off.  Without a doubt one of the best nights of my life.

When it was time to wrap up, friends stayed behind to take down chairs and tables, carry coolers, and load up my truck.  A neighbor took the kids home, and since we drove separately, Elizabeth hopped in her car to head out.  I told her that I was going to check the picnic area one last time in case we'd left something, and I'd meet her at home.  She smiled.  She knew what I was really up to.

"Just going to think for a while?" she asked.

"Yeah. Think I'll meditate up here tonight."

"Okay," she said, "Did you have fun?"

"Are you kidding me? This was the best. I can't thank you enough."

She smiled her radiant smile, which still melts me these fifteen years later. A kiss, and she pulled out of the parking lot, headlights piercing twilight.

Now I was alone in this gorgeous park in the Colorado foothills, only five minutes from my home. The last rays of sunlight were slipping behind the mountains. I made my way up the short slope one more time, calves burning from a long run that morning. I sat on the terraced steps just below the upper pavilion that overlooks the valley. Soft breeze, bats fluttering in and out of the rocks, harmonic resonance humming in the chest, a tranquility of soul. Memories of kids and dogs, rattlesnakes, thunderstorms and rainbows. I wrote a third of a novel at this very spot. I still jog through here often in the early mornings.

At the big 4-0, I'm glad I have a place like this, a physical locale imprinted on my mind. It feels--resonates--like home. I have a half dozen sacred places, all in Colorado and Arizona: Iron Springs, Beaver Mesa, Keystone, the backyard of our current home, my super secret Fortress of Solitude, which is known to no man but which infuses me with my superpowers.  And here.

Clouds igniting like lava, paling to peach, then gray. Violet sky dimming to the color of . . . what?  Blackberries. Sunlight's final strokes silhouetting pines on the crest of the foothills. Breathe in, breathe out.

My planned post for today was going to be about the rough structure of my self-imposed program for this year. But it will wait. Today, I feel and express gratitude to the Universe for forty years of life, for this sublime moment amongst so many others, for consciousness, for joy. For friends and family. For this frame of earth, the space and time in which to experience it. For pain, for suffering, for fear. For cancer and disillusionment. And for peace amidst the storm. It all comes bundled. I'm ecstatic and humbled to be alive at this moment. It won't last forever. I'm okay with that. Now is forever.

Welcome to Uncertainty: A Preamble

"I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream."--Vincent Van Gogh

With the Big 4-0 upon me, I want to publicly declare that I don't have it all figured out. Not much, at least. Not yet, and I don't ever expect to. This should surprise no one. This is not false humility. This is the acknowledgment that, while I have some hunches, some lived experience, some sketchy assumptions, some deep-seated hopes and fears, I really don't know what's going on with this precious moment of life we are experiencing that envelops us like our own skin. Shouldn't a guy, a darn doctor, at age 40, have it all figured out? For my children's sake, for the sake of others who question, for my own sanity, I'm no longer willing to pretend like I do.

I take solace in the fact that I'm not alone.  With the exception of Jesus and the Buddha, and maybe a shout out to Ghandi and Lincoln (and maybe Neil DeGrasse Tyson, he seems pretty sharp), I don't think any of us have ever really known what's going on here, not really, even when we act like we do.  Not the astrophysicists, not the economists, not the philosophers, poets, politicians or priests. Certainly not me. We all know bits and pieces, but none of us can fathom the whole.

That doesn't mean we are being dishonest if we think we've got it figured out. I like to believe that we are all doing the best we can within whatever paradigms we've inherited. And this is not to disparage the power of the scientific method. It is by far the best tool ever devised to help us discern truth. But a person could have all the formulas, calculations, experimental evidence of every aspect of the composition of the universe at their fingertips, from galaxies to quarks, from the Big Bang to the event horizon, to explain the What, Where, and How of the universe, and still not have a clue as to the Why. We believe, we hope, we wish, we dream. We hypothesize, we assert, we guess, we suppose. But what do we really know? And how can we create meaning out of our ignorance?

We are trapped in Plato's cave: reading the shadows on the wall, yet never seeing the fires and figures that produce them. This predicament is not our fault. Like the Taoists have taught for eons, we fundamentally cannot know--or even name--the Tao, the Way, the ultimate source of meaning in the universe. We exist as oblivious subjects of the Cosmos, like infants opening our eyes but not yet self-aware, looking through a glass darkly, too limited by our frail bodies and fickle brains, too busy breathing and eating, sleeping and dreaming, working and playing, to have the infinite perspective it would take to ever put a finger on it.  It's not that we can't name it. It's that it can't be named. The more we know about a particle's location, the less we know about its destination. And so we live in a world of uncertainty and metaphor.

     "We wake, if we ever wake at all, to mystery, rumors of death, beauty, violence. . . 'Seems like we're just set down here,' a woman said to me recently, 'and don't nobody know why.'"  (from "Pilgrim on Tinker Creek" by Annie Dillard)

The irony is that most of us live with the illusion that we do know the Why, or at least that somebody does. We are born, we grow, our brains develop, we learn languages, symbols and sounds that convey meaning but forever fall short of the essence of what we're trying to describe.  Our words are full of holes, leaking out essence like a slotted spoon, and by the time we get the ladle to our lips, the soup is gone. Think of blackberry:  when we see that jumble of curved lines, or when we roll those jangling syllables off of our tongues, we think that we have understood or communicated the idea of blackberry. And we have, sort of. But those are still just letters and sounds, pixels on a screen or vibrations of air, not the thing itself. (Props here to Robert Hass and his brilliant poem Meditation at Lagunitas. And man, do I ever love blackberries.) These symbols and syllables could never be that juicy, sweet, tart fruit that we know in its essence by taste, touch, sight and feel, that deliciousness we experienced when we first tasted it, warm and soft, in grandma's cobbler. The point is that the essence of blackberry can be experienced, but not conveyed.  Something is always lost in the translation. Our words, even our ideas, are metaphors.

By language and culture, we plug (or are plugged) into a matrix of thought: a religion, a country, a career, a community, and we learn to live by their codes. Those codes are written organically, sculpted by human nature and frailty in an undirected way over generations, over millennia. They take many specific shapes, but the end result is that, in a world of infinite vastness, complexity and fundamental uncertainty, they offer us the local and specific assurance that we most crave:  that the path we are following is known, the life we are living is correct, and in the end we will be okay. Of course, with most codes comes a cost. Conform, don't question.  Be prepared to pay a penalty if you ever have the courage to cut yourself free.

So into my uncertainty, here comes the Big 4-0, a convenient milestone of sorts. I'm ready for it. I think I've lived a good life, and I'm happy where I'm at:  a husband, a father of three, a doctor, a friend, a neighbor, a citizen, a seeker, an adventurer, a writer, a musician, a creator. On the surface, my life looks pretty much like I envisioned it would thirty years ago, with one big exception:  I'm no longer Mormon. That foundation, with all of its assertions of certainty and eternity, crumbled nearly five years ago, and everyday I'm still picking my way out of the rubble.

For the next twelve months, I'm going to conduct an experiment on myself.  This blog will chronicle an intentional spiritual journey, building on my first forty years and then launching into the unknown: my quest to see what sort of meanings--both practical and ultimate--I can carve out of my precious moment of consciousness in this infinitely complex, chaotic, beautiful, uncertain universe.

Things Fall Apart, Things Come Together

We recently resigned from the LDS (Mormon) Church, and this post is a brief explanation of our family's situation.  

To some facebook friends, this may be a surprise, but it's actually old news.  We left the church four years ago, though we only recently sent in our letters of resignation. Our intent is to live an authentic life, and as part of that process, we want those who care about us to know where we stand on one of the most important matters of our lives.  We hope not to lose any friends over this, though we're aware that could happen.

Here's the nutshell version:  Elizabeth and I left together, along with our three kids; after much studying, pondering, praying, researching and meditating, we came to the excruciating conclusion that the LDS church is simply not true; we are happy, healthy, and hopeful for the future; if you are facing a similar journey, we feel your pain, and will support you however we can.

Here are the most relevant details:

• Elizabeth and I left together, along with our three kids.
• We did not leave for reasons of sin, pride, or taking offense.  In many ways, our lives look pretty much the same as they did 4 years ago. We have a simple family life that revolves around our kids, our community, and our jobs.  
• We left because after much study, pondering, prayer, and meditation, we came to the conclusion that the church is not true. Perhaps it may be construed as "true" in the sense of promoting human values such as love, service, forgiveness, community and family. But many churches and systems of ethics promote these same values. However, we do not believe the LDS church is true in the manner it presents itself, as being the only true church on the earth and the only pathway to salvation.  Once we came to that excruciating conclusion, our personal sense of integrity required us to leave, no matter the fallout.
• We feel that the church's track record in its treatment of women, minorities, and gays is poor and that its history, doctrines and policies often do harm to individuals and families, even to the point of family destruction and suicide.  We realize that many women find great fulfillment in the church and do not feel mistreated in any way, which is great, and we believe them.  However, we feel that the simple awareness that Joseph Smith had at least thirty-three wives, eleven of whom were concurrently married to other men, is all that anyone needs to know to discern that there is something wrong at the core of Mormonism in regards to women.  We are not willing to allow our daughter to grow up in a religious environment where acceptance of that doctrine and history is okay, and where women are still not allowed to hold positions of priesthood authority.
• We don't regret having been raised Mormon.  There are many wonderful values, relationships, and experiences that we gained that will always be central to our lives.  We are happy to have served missions, gone to BYU, been married in the temple, and served in various callings.  At the time, our worldview told us those were the most important things we could have been doing, and they were important steps on the journey to where we are now.
• We view our leaving as part of a larger journey into spiritual awareness.  We are not afraid of the future or what happens after death.  We feel reverential awe and humility towards the scientific and artistic truths of our human family, the earth and the universe.  
• We are happy and healthy.  Our children are thriving.  While there are many struggles we face that are common to all families, we love each other and love our lives. We have new awareness of how precious this life is, how precious all of our relationships are. We intend to make this life count, to do good and leave a legacy of love.
• We respect our family and friends who choose to remain Mormon.  We had to leave based on our sense of integrity, yet we recognize that many friends choose to stay out of their own sense of integrity.  We honor them, wish them well, and hope to remain friends.  We all have to navigate our own path according to our conscience.
• We harbor no ill will towards towards any current or past leaders or members.  We believe that nearly everyone is just trying to do the best they can.
• As is our nature, we will be vocal in standing against injustice and advocating for what we think is right.  We don't consider ourselves "anti-Mormon", but rather pro-truth, pro-justice, pro-love.  I may occasionally post items or thoughts that I feel are important and would like to share.  If you disagree, I invite you to either engage with me in respectful dialogue, either public or private, or to just ignore things that bother you. Please consider that if you haven't unfriended me in the past four years, I doubt you'll find a compelling reason to now. In most ways, we're still the same old Mark and Elizabeth you've always known.
• One of the main reasons we are posting this here is that we are aware that some of our friends may be silently struggling with their faith at this moment, and others may one day question things that now seem so certain  If this is or will be you, please don't suffer in silence.  We have walked that lonely, terrifying road, and we will walk it with you if you would like.  We will engage you without judgment in whatever circumstance of faith or doubt that you find yourself.  Seriously.  Reach out.  We could use the companionship, too.  Beyond the darkness of this moment there is an exhilarating, soul-expanding journey ahead, and you are not alone.
• Finally, leaving was one of the most difficult, most courageous, and best decisions we have ever made.  That may be hard for some to understand, but we feel that if you could see things the way we do, you would respect us for the integrity of our choices, even if you disagree with our conclusions.

Thanks for listening.  Health and happiness to all.  

Peace out.

Mark and Elizabeth