[NOTE: My last post painted the picture of a reimagined General Conference experience–an experience that I’ve continued to hope for and wish for over the past few years. In mentioning this to my therapist recently, he brought up the concept of Radical Acceptance. This concept is defined as “the ability to accept situations that are outside of your control without judging them, which in turn reduces the suffering that is caused by them.” Note that lack of judgment does not mean agreeing with or approving of the situation. It’s just accepting reality for what it is and not becoming negatively affected by that reality. So… as I endeavor to do this in regards to General Conference, I’ve been given some homework. And that homework involves rewriting my recent post and describing General Conference in realistic terms. In theory, this will help me inch a little closer to radical acceptance of my General Conference experience.]
It is April 1, 2023. I
enter the Conference Center stage area and take my place in the loft well
before the conference actually begins. The platform area where the Orchestra at
Temple Square is normally situated for rehearsals and performances has been replaced
by cascading rows of plush velvet seats. In front of each of these seats is a
monitor screen so that the Seventy and other officers of the Church will easily
be able to see whatever the multiple broadcasting cameras are focused on. I let
out a small sigh, not understanding why the members of the Seventy have to be
up on the stand at all. It’s not as if the cameras actually focus in on these
brethren–which means that the larger audience watching conference remotely
never really gets to see their faces or know who they are anyway. So why do
they occupy this precious space? My mind wrestles with the dissonance. Having
the Orchestra be able to participate in Conference would add such richness and
beauty to the otherwise lone Conference instrument–the organ.
But I need to accept the
fact that this will not change. It is what it is. It’s outside of my control
and it’s taking energy away from things I can control. Maybe I can
envision the Orchestra with us even when they’re not. Maybe I can appreciate
the spirit of Orchestra members and feel their prayers that the Choir will do
its best to fulfill the mission of Conference even when they, themselves, can’t
actively help with that fulfillment. Maybe I can partially sing for them–to
somehow give voice to their silence.
With all of the music
for conference memorized, there is no music in front of me to review. However,
I do get sad about the fact that the music selected for Conference comes mostly
from a “Conference collection” of pieces that are cycled through every so
often. It’s true that we don’t sing the same songs every conference, but there are
repeats, and the songs are mostly hymns from our 1984 hymn book (typically
arranged by our directors). There are also selections from the Primary song
book, a few from Janice Kapp Perry, and once in a while, a newly written piece
that has that traditional hymn “look and feel”. Once again, I think about the
very large repertoire of songs the Choir sings week to week on Music &
the Spoken Word and wonder for the hundredth time why we can’t expand our
General Conference horizons and sing some of those songs. They are
uplifting! They testify of Christ and of gospel themes and principles. The
argument has been made that performing some of these songs at Conference would
cost the Church money because of the royalties involved. But if that were true,
wouldn’t we have to pay royalties for Music & the Spoken Word? Also,
say we did have to pay royalties. Wouldn’t it be worth it for the Church to pay
them? Wouldn’t that be money well spent? Isn’t praising God through music worth
the price?
OK. Again Ryan, we need
to get past this. Very narrow music selection for Conference will not change. I
cannot change it. It’s outside of my control and it’s taking energy away from
things I can control. And what can I control when it comes to what we’re
singing? Well, maybe I have zero say in what we’re singing, but I do
have a say in focusing on the people–maybe even “the one”--who will be
listening to these traditional songs. The words to these songs are still
uplifting. They still inspire. They still help people feel peace. So if I think
of these people who are listening while I sing, and focus on the
words inspiring them, then I can better let go of my desire for more diverse
Conference music and use that energy for faith and hope that those I’m singing
to will feel something. Something good. Something that will take away
their weariness, their hardships, their woundedness, if only for a few
minutes.
As I sit there in my
seat still pondering the music, I turn my attention to the reality of
Conference sessions being long, unengaging, and unvaried. Talk, talk, music.
Talk, talk, talk, music. Talk, talk, music. The format is just so hard for me.
In addition to the format, is what’s in the talks themselves. Are there good
things that uplift and inspire? Most certainly. Are there also things that
cause hurt, frustration, and disconnectedness? Yes. And then there’s the fact
that there’s no better place to see patriarchy on display, than at Conference.
Yes, I appreciate talks by the brethren. Of course I do. I’m inspired by, and
learn from them. But women give great talks too. And while there are a few
women who usually speak at Conference, they are far outnumbered by the men.
Could not the wives of the apostles speak? Could not women who sit on the
general boards of the Relief Society and YW organizations speak? And how about
just women who are on the “front lines” trying to do their best in living a
life led by Jesus Christ? How refreshing would that be?
But this will not
change. The effects of patriarchy will continue. Women will not be equally
represented. The dry format of Conference, devoid of any multi-media or other
creative, attention-focusing enhancements will persist (despite what’s referenced
in the new Church manual “Teaching in the Savior’s Way that includes this
teaching tip: “Varying your teaching methods will help you meet
diverse needs.”). Talks will continue to be given that cause pain to the
marginalized and those living on the inside of the edge. These facts are
outside of my control and they are taking energy away from things I can
control. I’ll choose to put my energy into being more thankful for the women we
do get to hear from. What can I learn from them? How do their words teach and
inspire me? Are there talks that LDS women have given at different events that
I could look up and read? I’ll also choose to give grace to myself when I need
to tune-out –knowing I can always read the talks later if they are too
triggering or too sleep-inducing (given how many there are). Additionally,
whenever I hear “Heavenly Father” or “God” referenced, I’ll make an on-the-fly
mental adjustment substituting these references with “Heavenly Parents”. For
surely we have a loving Heavenly Mother who is active and involved. What does
it say in the Church’s Family Proclamation: “Husband and wife have a solemn
responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children [and] are
obligated to help one another as equal partners.” If Heavenly Mother is an
equal partner to our Heavenly Father, surely she should be referenced and
acknowledged more for Her important role in our lives. Lastly, I’ll seek out
the great multimedia resources the Church produces and let them impact me in
inspirational ways outside of Conference.
OK. I think I’m ready.
When I do walk into the Conference Center on April 1st, I’m going to accept the
“Conference reality” as it is. I’m going to let go of the frustration that
comes from wishing and longing and instead, I’ll intentionally choose to focus
on what I can control. Instead of just knowing that
General Conference won’t change, I am now accepting that it
won’t. Does this mean that my mind won’t occasionally get bothered by what I
see and what I wish could change? No. I’m human. I come up short. I falter and
sometimes downright fail. But I’ve thought carefully (and documented in this
blog) about alternate/positive ways to use my energy during General Conference
and I plan to quickly turn my attention to those ways whenever my mortal
failings of wishing and longing descend upon me.
I’m hoping this makes
all the difference.
And to be honest, I
think it already has.
