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Though body dissatisfaction can often seem like an isolated and unique experience, countless individuals struggle to love their bodies. As a gift from God and a vital part of His plan, the body is one of Satan’s most prominent targets. He may make individuals feel alone in their trials, but body image issues are widespread. 

Approximately 0.28% to 2.8% of the U.S. population will experience an eating disorder at some point in their lives, and numerous others may resort to disordered eating (e.g. diets or unhealthy eating behaviors that don’t fully qualify as an eating disorder). Additionally, about 75% of people are dissatisfied with their body size. Often in religious settings, the faithful are taught from a young age that their bodies are temples and are gifts from God, but still some struggle to love their bodies and wish to change them. 

Love 

President Jeffrey R. Holland taught “The first great commandment of all eternity is to love God with all of our heart, might, mind, and strength—that’s the first great commandment. But the first great truth of all eternity is that God loves us with all of His heart, might, mind, and strength.”

Many of these research participants expressed sentiments of being able to love their bodies because they knew that God loved them. As Ashley, a young female participant from Utah, said, “Heavenly Father loves me because I’m myself and not some image in a picture.” Likewise, Olivia, a young adult who grew up outside of Utah, shared, “Just because someone else is skinny, it doesn’t mean God doesn’t value me or love me or care about me. The doctrine has played a major part in my healing process or processes.” 

In addition to feeling loved by our Heavenly Parents, several of the members brought up their relationship with Jesus Christ, and knowing that He died for their sins also helped them to love their bodies more. Olivia expressed, “The Atonement of Jesus Christ, that is something that has always helped, especially when I’m feeling my lowest.” Whitney, a young participant who grew up outside the United States, also shared:  

It’s hard for me. There are people [who] would be like, ‘Oh yeah, …Christ knows how you’re feeling.’ I’m like, ‘But how could he know what …a 19-year-old girl is feeling when she hates her body?’ [Because] I just feel like it’s such a different experience for everybody. But also, it just felt like there’s no way anybody else could know what this is like. And I think of just coming to like, develop that relationship. Like He understood…where I was mentally. Maybe he never hated His body … But He cared about my struggles and He understood my mental difficulties that I was having in every aspect. Not just about my body.   

Knowing that their Heavenly Parents loved them and Christ had atoned for them helped these members to find peace and work on accepting their bodies. 

Purpose 

In addition to knowing they were loved, many brought up the idea that knowing that God had given them their bodies and had a plan for them gave them purpose and helped them in their relationship with their body. Sophie, a middle-aged female participant who grew up internationally, observed:  

It gives me perspective in the sense that my body was an essential part of the plan of happiness, like I completely understand this and that always brings me appreciation that I know that I chose to come here to receive a body and that was my choice.  

For several participants, God’s plan helped them have a long-term or eternal perspective on life, their bodies, and what was most important. Sophie continued:  

I’m still far from where I would like to be in terms of being completely happy with my body. But typically, when I can envision this kind of truth, it gives me a perspective that my bra size really does not matter in the grand scheme of things. 

Lastly, Cristin, a middle-aged participant from Utah, described how she was able to find deeper meaning and purpose during a low point in her eating disorder:  

There’s something deeper … that I’m not put on this Earth just to be this physical being. Because I felt so low, that you get to that point where you like it’s not worth it anymore, if this is all that it is. That I don’t want to have to go through this all the time. It’s exhausting. So if it’s just restriction and isolation and avoiding food and avoiding people, so I don’t have to deal with that, there’s gotta be more to life than that. And that’s really helped me in a way, see that there was more to life than the physical and that deepened my faith.  

Because these participants knew that God loved them and had a plan for them, this helped them as they healed from their eating disorder and learned to love their bodies. 

Perfection

Though many were able to cling to knowing that God loved them and had a plan for them during their recovery, others also brought up a sometimes unspoken pressure to look and be perfect. Various women shared how they had to gain a better understanding of what it meant to become perfect as they recovered. Naomi, a younger participant who grew up outside of Utah, shared: 

I think we have a culture of comparison, and I don’t think that has anything to do with doctrine. … I know that’s not what God wants us to be doing. But because we’re all striving to live better lives and just to improve ourselves spiritually, I think that can just kind of bleed into other areas … I think it’s because we are taught to improve ourselves and to repent and to be the best that we can, to be closer to God. And I think maybe people interpret that as like, how am I appearing to other people? And maybe misinterpreting it a little bit.

Similarly, Ellie, a middle-aged participant who grew up outside of Utah, explained, “Obviously, we have doctrine on becoming perfect, but it’s the act of making improvements, right? Rather than, I think what a lot of people see as the definition of being perfect without flaw.” 

Though these participants had started their journey of recovery, many have not. Just as these participants did, members of The Church of Jesus Christ struggling with body image should focus on beliefs such as that Heavenly Father created our bodies and loves each individual as they are, our bodies are an essential part of the Plan of Salvation, and we are working on progression, not perfection. All of these teachings can be vital in supporting individuals in forming a healthy body image. 

Additionally, acceptance could be fostered through artwork that represents a variety of body types, skin colors, and abilities. Lastly, this could entail creating a nonjudgmental environment and opportunities within one’s congregations, quorums, classes, or families to openly discuss body image, media pressures, health, appearances, ability, why God made each of us uniquely, and how that knowledge may influence the way we see those around us and our own body. This is important for both men and women to discuss. For as President Holland has noted,

There is no universal optimum size … I plead with you young women [and all] to please be more accepting of yourselves, including your body shape and style, with a little less longing to look like someone else. We are all different. Some are tall, and some are short. Some are round, and some are thin. And almost everyone at some time or other wants to be something they are not!

Ultimately, God made every individual unique and wants all to be invited to come, join, and be loved. We are all created in His image. And in that shared truth lies the beginning of healing—knowing that, as unique children of loving heavenly parents, through Christ we are enough, and we can be made whole.

The post In His Image: How Faith Can Heal Our Relationship with Our Bodies appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

In not bringing these aspects of their experience into session, it is thought that the individual is only conveying ‘parts’ to the counselor instead of the ‘whole,’ which, in turn, can negatively affect the therapeutic process. Often when the therapist brings attention to a certain cultural aspect, the individual can open up and can feel “this is okay to talk about.” That is why a counselor is encouraged to broach. It is said that: 

A therapist who is broaching is aware of cross-cultural similarities and differences and the workings of power in the therapy dyad and makes deliberate efforts to demonstrate this understanding to the client, which includes explicit discussion in sessions [emphasis added].

My particular university was very focused on developing culturally competent counselors. Most of my classes emphasized the importance of incorporating the client’s experience in developing positive rapport and facilitating good therapeutic treatment. The mantra I heard throughout my counseling education is, “If you are not culturally competent, you should not be a counselor.” 

However, mainstream therapeutic practice has often come up short when it comes to broaching one particular part of culture and identity: religion. Religion is a huge part of many people’s lives, and many clients want their beliefs to be understood and respected within a therapeutic space. This is actually a reasonable expectation.

1. Understanding basic belief systems, major world religions, agnosticism, and atheism.

2. Recognizing that the client’s beliefs (or absence of beliefs) are central to their worldview and have influence over their psychological well-being. 

3. Knowing your own limitations as a clinician in understanding a client’s religion and spiritual experience. 

4. Recognizing and using spiritual or religious concepts consistent with the client’s worldview or perspective. 

5. Understanding religious themes and contexts and addressing these when therapeutically relevant and counseling with reliable religious resources when necessary. 

Living and working as a therapist in Utah, I can say that these spiritual and religious competencies matter, even beyond the Latter-day Saint population. 

Why Broaching Matters For You

Now you may be wondering why I feel the need to educate you on broaching. Fair question. 

It is because these competencies are important to you as a religious individual who may potentially engage in therapy. Therapists should be competent in exploring religion within therapeutic settings. In fact, it is an expectation. And you should feel like you can bring Jesus into therapy with you in a meaningful way. In fact, as members of the Church of Jesus Christ, we are encouraged to do so. 

I can pinpoint the moment the attitudes around mental health began to shift more within the Latter-day Saint community. In 2013, Elder Holland gave his conference talk, Like a Broken Vessel, and it had a rippling effect on how we saw and continue to see mental health experiences. In this impactful talk, he stated: 

… these afflictions are some of the realities of mortal life, and there should be no more shame in acknowledging them than in acknowledging a battle with high blood pressure or the sudden appearance of a malignant tumor. 

In contrast to much of the casual, misinformed dialogue around mental health experiences back in 2013, Elder Holland even encouraged us to seek out professional help for these types of struggles and difficulties. He refuted the ideas from previous years and decades, which painted struggling individuals as lazy, broken, or entitled. Elder Holland expressed hope and advice later in his talk: 

If things continue to be debilitating, seek the advice of reputable people with certified training, professional skills, and good values. Be honest with them about your history and your struggles.

As a therapist and as someone who has engaged in their own therapy, I can attest to the positive benefits that can come from seeking that kind of help. Certainly, we can recognize the divine inspiration that Elder Holland received, which led many people to get the help they needed when they might have otherwise hesitated.

However, psychology and therapy are generally secular disciplines, and sometimes professionals do not always understand or appreciate different values in their clients, even if they may think they do. In the ASERVIC guidelines addressed earlier in this article, professionals are encouraged to know their limitations and to be aware of their own biases. Indeed, if professionals and individuals seeking services are not cognizant of the reality of bias in therapy, it can lead to recommendations that are not aligned with clients’ values. Sometimes, individuals may feel that they need to do what their therapist recommends, even if it is against their values, in order to get better.

Indeed, among many examples, I once heard an account of a client who was encouraged to have a trial “open relationship” to help their monogamous relationship. Additionally, someone else I knew was encouraged to view their pornography use as a productive coping skill even when they personally wanted to stop watching it due to their religious values. These are certainly not the only ways in which values can be disregarded or misunderstood.

In this spirit we can look at the next line in Elder Holland’s talk that may be easy to overlook. He said: 

Prayerfully and responsibly consider the counsel they give and the solutions they prescribe [emphasis added].

We have not been encouraged to listen to counselors, therapists, psychiatrists, or psychologists without critically thinking about the treatments and skills they prescribe. Indeed, we have been encouraged to bring God into the process and study it out in our own minds. To do that, it may be beneficial to find a therapist who is willing and capable of talking about God and who will allow you to bring Jesus to therapy. It can feel like two separate experiences, but it does not have to be. 

If you find a good therapist, though, this does not always mean that you will be on the same page or that you will not need to talk about differences in perspectives. There were several times in my own therapeutic experience when my therapist and I talked about how my beliefs were misunderstood and misinterpreted, but they were willing and able to meet me there. That is the important thing.

Ultimately, though, I want to empower individuals to bring their values, their religion, and their beliefs into therapy. As members of the Church of Jesus Christ, we fundamentally believe that all change is wrought through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. We are taught that “it is only in and through the Grace of God that ye are saved” and “without a Savior to redeem and reform us, there is little hope of lasting improvement in humanity.” He provides us with ways to help us heal and to bring us closer to Him. Therapy can be an avenue to do that if we find the right therapist and we approach it with the right intent. 

Healing with Jesus and healing in therapy do not have to be two separate entities. You do not need to keep your beliefs, your values, and your religions apart from your experience in therapy. You have the right to bring these values and find a professional who can navigate that terrain with you.

The post Can Therapy Be Faith-Friendly? Why Bringing Jesus into Counseling Might Not Meet Your Spiritual Needs appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Feeling validated about one’s self or having one’s choices affirmed is not inherently a bad thing. Certainly, we can all resonate with wanting to have our feelings and points of view confirmed by others. For example, perhaps an extreme one, women who have experienced physical abuse often seek and need validation from others that what they are experiencing is actually abuse. I (Brianna) once had a client who came to a session after her husband had physically assaulted her, and she had called the police. She was worried that she had done the wrong thing, had maybe overreacted, or was actually the one at fault. In this case, however, it was important to validate that her physical safety was important and that she had done the right thing.

Existing in echo chambers can steadily move us away from reality and confine us in a space that is not actually healthy or helpful. We lose the ability to challenge our own beliefs and consider different points of view when we are unequivocally validated in the beliefs we hold. Particularly when our choices are destructive to others or ourselves, what we need may not be validation but rather challenge and correction. If we only ever hear our own thoughts and ideas repeated back to us in an affirming way, we can quickly lose touch with reality. An echo chamber allows us to inhabit a world entirely of our own making, a world created in our own image and reflecting back to us only ourselves. As such, the danger of an echo chamber lies in the way it encourages us to be like Narcissus, a figure of ancient Greek mythology who fell in love with his own reflection in a pool of water.   

To understand better how echo chamber therapy can impede our happiness and growth, we need to take a look at how modern therapeutic practice developed and how it fails to provide what we need to reach our highest potential. We will see that our Heavenly Father wants us to grow and develop and that, often, this growth requires us to change, repent, and improve. True love and concern for people do not affirm them in whatever they happen to be doing but instead challenge us to become who we truly can be—the sort of person our Heavenly Father intended us to become all along. 

Echo Chambers & Person-Centered Therapy

Carl Rogers is considered a “father” of modern psychotherapy with his theory of “person-centered therapy.” His ideas and therapeutic approach have played—and continue to play—a particularly influential role in how therapists are trained today. Indeed, he is one of the top 12 most cited psychologists of all time. Although you may never have read or heard about Carl Rogers specifically, there’s a very good chance that you have heard the phrase “unconditional positive regard” or “unconditional love” somewhere, perhaps in an introduction to psychology course or even in casual conversation with friends.

Carl Rogers […] argued that to facilitate genuine psychological and emotional healing therapists must establish a particular kind of empathic relationship with their clients, one based on the therapist’s unconditional acceptance of the client, regardless of what the client says or does or feels. 

Most American psychotherapy training programs tend to emphasize person-centered therapeutic modalities as a basic building block in counseling education. Everything beneficial in the therapeutic relationship, it is often said, is rooted in and built up from the therapist’s use of unconditional positive regard in approaching the client.

Rogers himself argued that in order for the individual to be fully free to be themselves in therapy, the therapist must create an environment of unconditional acceptance and radical tolerance or, to use a more recently popularized term, a safe space. 

On a surface level, the creation of safe spaces does not seem like a bad idea. And, as Gantt and Thayne also note: 

… helping an individual to feel safe in expressing his or her hidden thoughts and feelings is a valuable and important endeavor, especially in a therapeutic setting where genuine empathy and openness are vital. 

These professionals further articulate that to criticize Rogers is not to criticize empathy, understanding, and openness as a whole. While Rogers has been particularly influential in defining what empathy means for psychologists, his way of facilitating openness and authenticity is not the only one. Nor would we argue that it is the best way as a therapist. 

What Rogers misses (and what many of his followers miss) is the difference between the ability to exercise judgment or discernment about events or behaviors in a client’s life and judging a person’s value or intent. There is simply no avoiding this issue, though. Helpful interpersonal feedback requires judgment and discernment about whether the client is living a good, functional, or healthy life. 

Skeptical? Try this quick thought experiment: 

Imagine that the ‘worst’ person that you know is getting therapy. The therapist provides validation for every thought, feeling, and action that person has ever had or done—including those that have hurt you or other people. 

Certainly, this is not a very comfortable thought. Validating sins and misdeeds does not help the person in the wrong want to change, and it is cheapened when it is applied by default to everything another feels or does.

Rebukes, chastenings, reprimands, commandments, instructions, parental advice, attempts at persuasion are all fundamentally and inescapably at odds with the notion of a “safe space.” 

But “safe spaces” may not actually be what is best for us. In order to understand the truth about love, healing, and happiness, we should first look to those who do it perfectly—Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ—and understand the meaning and purpose of our lives. 

The Plan of Happiness & Our Divine Purpose

The Plan of Salvation is, indeed, a plan of happiness. But to understand what this really means, we must understand happiness. It is common in our modern, secular world to define happiness ecumenically as an agreeable psychological state. According to this understanding, people are happy as long as they enjoy what they are doing and are achieving what they desire. But this approach has obvious problems, ones that have been noted at least since the beginnings of the Western intellectual tradition—for example, by Plato, Aristotle, Aquinas, and many others. If we enjoy doing evil, does this make us happy or merely more miserable because we do not appreciate the significance of our actions? As the philosopher and psychologist William James observed: “If merely ‘feeling good’ could decide, drunkenness would be the supremely valid human experience.” People and society often flaunt the commandments of God and experience ‘happiness,’ but Alma is correct when he states, “wickedness never was happiness.”

If we leave the word “happiness” as the world would define it, then we may miss the purpose of our lives. Life is not about preventing the vindictive judgment of a vengeful God, rather, it is about who we become. As Elder Christofferson has said, “God’s purpose is that we, His children, may be able to experience ultimate joy, to be with Him eternally, and to become even as He is.”

However, if we ‘think celestial,’ as President Nelson has counseled us to do, we can see that we must follow the commandments of God, make covenants in the temple, and live our lives trying to be more like Christ if we want to become people who will want to stand in the presence of God. Through these commandments, covenants, and efforts, Heavenly Father shows us the manner of heaven through our experience by becoming as He is. This goes beyond “check-list” religious practices. The very act of becoming is the ultimate joy, happiness, and purpose of life. 

How Does God Love Us? 

So as we think about God, His plan, and how He loves us, let us consider a different thought experiment. In another article written here at Public Square Magazine, Kylie Burdge and I (Brianna) comment: 

Imagine a parent looking at their 8-year-old child saying, “I love you totally and completely, so please do not feel any need to grow and change.” While it is true that we love our children as they are, does that love for them mean that we never want them to change or grow or progress? From a Christian view, those desires would not really be loving because they inherently limit the experiences and ultimate happiness that we want for children […] Their perspective would be forever limited. In fact, there is an aspect in which we intuitively recognize that there is something wrong with a parent who wants their child to stay as they are forever. 

Good parents know that their children need to grow and change. Sometimes this tutelage includes reprimands, instructions, advice, and chastenings—though always motivated by and grounded in selfless love. After all, the scriptures say: “For whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth,” and “As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten.” Lest we forget, these guidelines for love are almost the exact opposite of how we would define a contemporary “safe space.”

So how does the Lord provide chastisement? 

Doctrine and Covenants sheds some light on His purposes: “Whom I love I also chasten that their sins may be forgiven, for with the chastisement I prepare a way for their deliverance in all things out of temptation, and I have loved you” [emphasis added]. Elder Christofferson further adds, “The fruit of God’s chastisement is repentance leading to righteousness.” 

God’s intent with chastisement, or correction, is to help us become as He is. We agreed to His plan from the beginning and clearly had the desire to live as He does. Indeed, in this respect, He is a bit older and wiser in the ways of life and truth. Within this context, repentance is simply a reflection of how we change and how we grow into new people over time through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Chastisement and correction from a Godly perspective is loving because it helps us realize who we are and who we can become.

Love and Therapy

How does this apply to therapy and echo chambers? First, we should be clear that therapists are neither parents to their clients nor gods. They are just people. However, by exploring and embracing the love Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ have for us, we can expand our vision of what healing and growth look like.

However, the reality is that therapists are imperfect, and they may not always make the best observations or challenges in the right way. You don’t have to take everything your therapist says at face value and apply it exactly in your life. Rather, a therapist can provide opportunities for growth by having productive dialogue around the context of your life and possible areas of improvement. You want to find the right therapist for you, not the perfect therapist. 

Ultimately, though, you have a better opportunity to grow and progress if you find an environment where you can feel lovingly and fairly challenged. In these constructive confrontations, you have an increased opportunity to learn the truth about your experiences and the people in your life. As Jesus taught, “the truth shall make you free” and you will never learn the truth in an echo chamber.

The post When Safe Spaces Aren’t Safe: How Unconditional Acceptance Can Stifle Growth appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

We may not want to admit it, but many of us are like this fat gray cat. We don’t do harm; we don’t do much good—we get by.  

I recently listened to an interesting YouTube video where the presenter asked, “Do we live in a pathologically mediocre society where people are thin and flimsy, aggregates of human qualities rather than actual human beings?”  He went on to make his case that most of us are mediocre. He quoted Kierkegaard, who said, “Let others complain that the age is wicked; my complaint is that it is wretched; for it lacks passion.”  

I think he is right. Occasionally I will meet someone who is truly Alive—it is rare enough to make an impression. But otherwise, we seem mostly to be getting by like this fat gray cat. We move about, we seem occupied, but underlying boredom and apathy haunt our busyness.

Why are we mediocre?

G.K. Chesterton would argue that the cause of our wretchedness is a lack of wonder: “The world will never starve for want of wonders; but only for want of wonder.”

At the beginning of the story, he holds a pistol to the head of Professor Eames, a man famous for his lectures on pessimism. His ideology sees pessimism as the one true philosophy—life is not worth living. However, the shock of being nearly murdered by Innocent Smith forces Professor Eames to realize that life is, in fact, precious. He wakes up to Life and discards his cynicism. 

Innocent Smith finds that to stay “Alive,” he must continually re-enchant his life with wonder. He wanders the world so he may return to his home with a rekindled appreciation. He has affairs with numerous women who all turn out to be his own wife. He breaks into his own home like a robber so he can view his possessions with envy. His behavior is disconcerting to most people who encounter him. However, others, in seeing his vitality and joy, awaken to the mediocrity and ingratitude of their lives.

When accused of insanity because of his continual breach of norms, Innocent Smith corrects our notion of madness, “Madness does not come by breaking out, but by giving in; by settling down in some dirty, little, self-repeating circle of ideas; by being tamed.”

Professor Eames encourages him to keep his gun and use it to awaken others from their self-deceit and mediocrity. Smith declares, “I am going to hold a pistol to the head of the Modern Man. But I shall not use it to kill him—only to bring him to life.”

Be a Holy Fool

Manalive follows the theme of many works of great literature, which depict a character, a holy fool or unlikely hero, who seems slow, idealistic, silly, or backward to others—yet who we discover is the one character who truly sees the world as it should be seen. Some books with this holy fool include—Alyosha in The Brothers Karamazov, Diamond in At the Back of the North Wind, Don Quixote, Pollyanna, and Despereaux in The Tale of Despereaux.

We are commanded to become like little children, and children are “holy fools.” They stare in wonder at the caterpillar crossing the road. They are enchanted by a snowstorm. They beg to push the button on the elevator. They will trade all their savings for one gummy bear.

“What was wonderful about childhood is that anything in it was a wonder. It was not merely a world full of miracles; it was a miraculous world.”  ~G.K. Chesterton

My youngest daughter, 6, is one of the most dramatic people I know. She bounces between extreme excitement and boiling anger. I am the “best mother in the entire world,” or I have “never done anything nice for her, EVER!” I have had many discussions with her about showing proper respect and controlling her emotions—but at the same time, I am glad she is passionate. I never want my teaching on manners and self-control to stamp out her wild and wondrous nature. 

Our modern pharmaceutical mindset would cause many to want to “cure” the bipolar tendencies of such a changing nature. If Mozart, Van Gogh, Tesla, Poe, and Newton were born today, they would likely be medicated out of their eccentricities, as well as their geniuses. Truth, goodness, and beauty are not tame and controllable; they are wild and free. Often I find myself in a room of adults and discover that everyone seems bored—we are “all politeness” and no excitement—we have been tamed. 

Robert Boyle, the Father of modern Chemistry, explains that in childhood, we can see most clearly, that we are our most true selves. We are not yet bored by the miracle of everyday living. He writes: 

We must try to recover the candour and wonder of the child—the unspoilt realism and objectivity of innocence. Or if we cannot do that, we must try at least to shake off the cloud of mere custom and see the thing as new, if only by seeing it as unnatural. Things that may well be familiar so long as familiarity breeds affection had much better become unfamiliar when familiarity breeds contempt. We must invoke the most wild and soaring sort of imagination—the imagination that can see what is there.

Awake

In the Bible, many scriptures begin with the plea to Awake! God seems to be pleading with us like our 1st-period high school teacher would—care, act, see, listen!

Thessalonians 4:6 says, “So then let us not sleep, as others do, but let us keep awake.”

Sleep is a coping mechanism. We have all awoken to a gloomy, rainy day, pulled the sheets over our heads, and gone back to sleep. Childhood trauma, unresolved grief, and chronic adversity can cause us to determine that to live, and to feel, will only lead to more suffering. When we live in fear of pain and loss, we may go out into this gloomy life, but we won’t risk being hurt as we once were. So we push down our vitality, our passion, our wonder—we get by. 

Years ago, I became acquainted with a young mother who, because of trauma from her childhood, had decided that caring about things had led to too much suffering. I could never get her engaged in more than shallow conversations; she would never show joy or sorrow. Her children were similar to their mother, as is often the case. She had wrapped her broken heart in a blanket of apathy. She did not feel the pain of disappointment and sorrow, but her range of emotion had narrowed so that love and joy also eluded her. 

Thankfully she began speaking to a trusted friend who helped her see the importance of letting herself feel what needs to be felt and finding herself protected in the arms of her Heavenly Father. She summoned the one virtue that can most aid us in this awakening—in pushing the covers off and waking up—Courage. She changed. She let herself become vulnerable. Her children begin to feel the vitality of their mother’s unmuted love. Pain came, and then it went—for she now knew her God. 

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give it to no one … But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”  ~C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

Rejoice

Our brains are wired to see the negative before the positive. This is a protective mechanism—our brains want us to notice the snake and not be distracted by the beautiful roses. That’s good because we want to avoid snakes, but we need to rise above it. We need to allow our souls, who still recognize the safe arms of God, to override our brain’s negative tilt. We need to willfully smell the roses. We need to overemphasize the good to compensate. Healthy cultures and people dance, they have feasts, they have days of celebration, they worship—and they are enlivened and ready to face the rain and gloom.

Life is for rejoicing, for action, for victory—with a good mix of suffering thrown in to keep us grateful for the joyful interludes. We live in a universe full of wonders. 

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,

     Life is but an empty dream!—

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

     And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!

     And the grave is not its goal;

Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

     Was not spoken of the soul.

~Excerpt from Psalm of Life, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

To avoid becoming a mediocre, dreary, predictable, “tame” person, we must shake off the dust of our own numbing ingratitude and truly appreciate the everyday wonders before us. The love of a spouse is a miracle. The song of a bird is a miracle. The taste of a mango is a miracle.

“The whole order of things is as outrageous as any miracle which could presume to violate it.”  ~G.K. Chesterton

If we succeed in truly Living, we will likely seem strange to those around us, as the holy fools in literature are strange to all but the most humble. “Living” men and women change the way they view the world. They reject the drudgery of materialism. They believe in things that others have grown cynical about, such as love, sacrifice, and faith. They fight and forgive. They glory and praise.

Living Below Our Birthright

We are meant to be Awake and Alive, even if everyone else is dull and asleep. Kierkegaard continues his commentary on the passionless ordinary man to point out that we are living far below our potential: 

Men’s thoughts are thin and flimsy like lace … The thoughts of their hearts are too paltry to be sinful. For a worm, it might be regarded as a sin to harbor such thoughts, but not for a being made in the image of God.

Christ would compare our propensity to mediocrity to the temperature of lukewarm water. He Himself suggests it is better to run hot, for at least then you have actively chosen your fate. The passionately-wrong are, if they are open, more easily turned in the opposite direction. A speeding vehicle can easily do a donut and face the other way. A slow and steady truck—weighed down by habit and custom—is much more difficult to shift. Saul became Paul in an instant as he rushed to imprison Christians in Damascus. The more measured and compromising Sadducees were witnesses to miracles, yet their weight of tradition, pride, and prejudice made them unchangeable. 

We are beings of eternal destiny. What a tragedy it is to be a fat gray cat in human form. 

C.S. Lewis gave us a glimpse of what we may be in his famous quote from The Weight of Glory: 

It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest, most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. 

How do we develop and become this goddess? How can we reignite this wonder? That fat gray cat is a product of his environment and has been trained to be mediocre, and mediocre he will stay—he can’t grow back his claws, he can’t regain his killer instinct. But we retain a wild and free will, buried and dusty though it may be. We can shake off the dust. We can discover again the wildness of life and allow it to flow through our lives. As we begin to recognize our need for wonder and gratitude and the need to recognize miracles and be a miracle in the lives of others—we can learn to LIVE AGAIN.

The post Living In a World of Declawed Souls appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Conceptualizing Our Own Experience

With mental illness on the rise, phrases like “I can’t just pray away my depression” or “I did not choose to feel this way” are increasingly common, reflecting a struggle with mental health and spiritual practice. People may feel betrayed when religious actions do not seem to alleviate their mental distress. This leads to a faulty assumption that God operates like a vending machine, providing relief in exchange for piety. However, this mindset proves inadequate.

Some then adopt a medical model, viewing their mental health issues as pathologies. Jacob Hess observed that, for these individuals, the focus becomes managing and coping rather than seeking deeper healing. While initially comforting, this model can limit hope and change. Caught between “praying our struggles away” and “I have a disease,” many find themselves grappling with a mix of environmental and genetic factors to explain their experiences.

Asking Not Amiss

The Book of Mormon prophet Nephi emphasizes this point, “Yea, I know that God will give liberally to him that asketh. Yea, my God will give me, if I ask not amiss.” We often categorize questions as ‘right’ or ‘wrong,’ and church leaders advise against asking questions with known answers. What does that look like, then, when we question things like career or mental health that typically depend on the context of our lives?

Perhaps, asking ‘not amiss’ means posing questions in a way that allows for an answer. During trials, if we merely ask God to remove our difficulties, we may limit His ability to respond. This approach assumes a closed positionality and that Heavenly Father should work according to our timeline. The question “Can you take this away?” is restrictive, suggesting that if He doesn’t remove the problem or provide an answer, He is not listening or lacks power.

However, seeking help in more engaging ways can lead to better, more insightful personal revelation. By asking genuine, open questions, we involve ourselves in the process of change and create space for divine guidance.

The Atonement of Jesus Christ and Mental Health 

In discussing mental health, Jeffrey R. Holland, an apostle of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, reminds us that we live in a fallen world where our pursuit of godliness is tested. A Savior, the Redeemer, was promised to lift us triumphantly over those tests and trials through our faith. He states, “It is only an appreciation of this divine love that will make our own lesser suffering first bearable, then understandable, and finally redemptive.”

We can mistakenly treat Christ’s atonement and divine love like a magic pill to fix our circumstances or as an ultimate coping skill. Although Christ does provide support, the atonement is significantly more than that. The late Bruce R. McConkie, also an apostle of the Church of Jesus Christ, notes, “The atonement of Christ is the most basic and fundamental doctrine of the gospel, and it is the least understood.” By asking closed-ended questions, we limit our understanding and healing. We can miss that the Atonement is a powerful process of engagement and change.

The Atonement, or ‘at-one-ment,’ allows us to be ‘at one’ with Jesus Christ. In other languages, reconciliation—meaning “to sit with”—is used to describe it. Instead of viewing the Atonement as something we use, we should see it as an intentional collaboration with Christ. Rather than asking for a trial to be removed, we can seek His peace, strength, and guidance.

Christ strengthens and directs us as we act. He “sits with us,” granting strength, wisdom, and love as we invite Him into our lives. However, our agency allows us to choose whether to turn to Him. Some things, even within the context of mental illness, are up to us.

Mental Health and Moral Agency

Agency is central to the faith of members of the Church of Jesus Christ. In their doctrine, Satan was cast down to preserve our agentic nature. However, when discussing agency and mental health, many mistakenly equate it to ‘choice.’ Insinuating that someone in despair ‘chose’ their feelings is not entirely accurate and can be unintentionally hurtful. Agency extends beyond choice, especially in the context of mental health, encompassing a holistic ‘way-of-being’ in the world. Dr. Edwin Gantt and Dr. Jeffrey Thayne state that “human action is always agentic,” even as we engage with prior events, meanings, and relationships.

One way to understand agency is by comparing it to functional fitness, which includes everyday physical activities that promote overall health. Sometimes we engage in these activities consciously, while other times, we do so unconsciously. When experiencing pain, it often results from long-term misuse of the body before pain manifests. Addressing symptoms is important, but finding the root causes is also essential for true healing.

Asking Different Questions and Changing Our Own Experience

During my husband Blake’s time on BYU’s hockey team, I often found myself sending up pleas for a miracle breakaway goal to win close games like any sports fan in a tight game. Yet, I didn’t pray for them to have productive practices, to form team cohesion, or to spend more time working on their umbrella power play, which sorely needed the work. Similarly, we might ask a loving God for help during our own figurative third periods instead of asking for his help with the life choices leading to those moments. By focusing on the symptoms, we may overlook the opportunity to engage with Heavenly Father in all aspects of our lives.

God invites us to pray for the capability of a championship performance rather than relying on last-minute miracles, even if I fully believe He is capable of performing them. Suffering can teach us valuable life lessons. What if we prayed to see our experiences more clearly, for Christ to ‘sit with us,’ to recognize our contributions to our situation, or to find the right people to help us? These open-ended questions allow God to guide us more effectively.

Elder Holland said in a BYU devotional: “As you labor to know him, and to know that he knows you … you will indeed find that ‘he shall give his angel charge concerning thee and in their hands, they shall bear thee up’ (Matthew 4:6). It may not come quickly … But there is purpose in the time it takes.”

Mental distress is complex and personal. Finding different ways to engage with our experiences doesn’t negate their reality. We can experience hope and change through Christ if we allow His love and healing into our lives. Healing may take time, but trusting in Him will lead to greater light and knowledge as we seek the right questions to ask our Heavenly Father, who is always eager to help us on our journey.

The post Beyond Coping: A New Approach to Mental Health Healing appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

 “Why do men like pornography so much?”

 Based on years of scholarly research and public engagement, I believe the answer is simple: Pornography produces quick, reliable orgasms without the vulnerability that comes with intimacy. Men can experience sexual pleasure while staying in control. Or, more accurately, the appearance of control. More on that at the end.

Explicit Material Intensifies the Detachment

The feminist critique of pornography—the basis for my writing and speaking on the subject—focuses on the harm to women, psychological and physical, in the production of sexually explicit material; the sexist and racist images that dominate the pornography market; and the influence those images have on consumers’ sexual imaginations.

 In the time I’ve been studying the pornography industry, some things have changed. Most obvious is the technologies—from magazines and movies, the industry moved to home videos and the internet. Pornography became more accessible and affordable. Other trends are equally obvious: In those three decades, the women in pornography have been asked to perform increasingly more intense and dangerous sex acts; the cruel and degrading nature of the images has intensified; and more girls and women are using pornography, which once had been almost exclusively a male pursuit.

 One thing remains the same for the still mostly male consumers: Pornography appears to provide sexual pleasure without the risks that come with intimacy.

When we are sexual with another person, we open ourselves up to intense emotions that can’t be predicted or easily controlled. In a culture that trains us to stay in control, many men believe sexual intimacy is a potential threat to that sense of power. Pornography provides the illusion of a sexual experience without risk. But it comes with costs.

Behind women’s question about men’s love of pornography is often an experience of male partners who seem remote or disconnected in lovemaking. Sometimes that’s a problem independent of pornography, but men’s habitual use of sexually explicit material intensifies the detachment. I’ve talked to many women after these presentations, and that struggle with men who detach rather than engage emotionally during sex was a common theme. To make it more difficult, some of those habitual users also initiate sexual acts that female partners find uncomfortable or painful—the kind of “rough sex” that is standard fare in pornography.

 The feminist critique doesn’t rest on judgments about people’s sexual desire but on the negative consequences for the women used in producing pornography and used by men who consume pornography. The critique doesn’t pretend that the end of pornography would eliminate men’s sexual exploitation of women. But in a pornography-saturated culture, it would be folly to ignore the role of that particular media genre in our lives.

 The feminist critique focuses on the harm to women, which is appropriate for that movement. But the feminists I have worked with are also aware of the downside of pornography for men. That doesn’t mean that all heterosexual men have the same experience or that gay men’s experiences are exactly the same. But based on formal interviews and informal conversations with hundreds of men, I believe there is a pattern in men’s distress over pornography use.

Human Vulnerability 

 There’s a second trap in which many men get caught: their habitual use of pornography starts to control them. I’ve listened to many men talk about the pain of realizing how pornography has colonized their sexual imagination. Men have told me they can’t have sex with a partner without thinking of pornography. In extreme cases, men who use pornography compulsively experience erectile dysfunction with partners. But no matter how much they realize the downside, many men cannot stop masturbating to pornography. Whether or not pornography is officially classified as an addiction—and I think it should be—some men cannot get out of an addictive-like cycle.

 My only advice to such men is that if they try to cope with their distress alone, they will fail. The only way out of that cycle of arousal and regret is to give up the illusion of control. Therapy can help when counselors understand the destructive dynamics of pornography. Talking openly and honestly with other men is important. For me, the feminist critique of pornography and male dominance more generally was essential to seeing a different way of living. Opening up to a therapist, to other men, to feminists—all require that we open up to the vulnerability, which is part of being human.

Related Articles 

• The Misguided Self: How Individualism Fuels Compulsive Pornography Use
• Whose Body Will Save Us from The Pain Inside?
• A Christian Virtue Approach to Compulsive Pornography Use

The post Lost in a Sea of Pixels: Men, Pornography, and the Illusion of Control appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Then her living nightmare got much worse. She noticed at school that the boys were looking at their mobile phones, acting strangely, and then looking at her. What she didn’t know then was that one of the older boys who raped her had made a video of the rape. He had uploaded the video to a website called Pornhub, where it was being viewed by thousands of visitors.

We at the National Center on Sexual Exploitation have filed a class action lawsuit against Pornhub in federal court on behalf of the thousands of minors, like Jane and Sarah, whose images have been uploaded to Pornhub and monetized.

The numbers are staggering. A New York Times  investigation called the proliferation of child sexual abuse material an “almost unfathomable” increase in criminality: from 600,000 images reported to the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children in 2008 to 60 million in 2018. Further, reports increased by 35 percent between 2020 and 2021.

How can these horrible things occur, and why aren’t law enforcement agencies prosecuting Pornhub? Here is the truly distressing part. Three years ago, there were 7 million videos uploaded to Pornhub alone. That’s 19,000 videos per day. There are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of online platforms like Pornhub on the internet. Anyone, regardless of intent or motive, can upload hardcore pornographic videos to these platforms, including rape videos and child sexual abuse material, more commonly known as child pornography. These platforms operate like criminal enterprises. They do not require that the participants shown in the videos (like Jane and Sarah) be 18 or older. They don’t seem to care. They do not require the consent of the person shown in the video. This isn’t even an after-thought, as they often refuse to delete the videos from their sites when requested to do so by persons who never consented to the uploading in the first place or who were minors when the images were made. Though they make enormous sums of money from viewers and advertisers in the United States, most of these sex trafficking websites are registered in foreign countries and are hard to sue.

But it’s not just the hard-core pornography websites that are profiting from child sexual abuse and the trafficking of its victims. Platforms such as Twitter, Reddit, TikTok, Snapchat, and others also have child sexual abuse material on their sites and monetize it. Indeed, all of these named online platforms are defendants in lawsuits alleging their culpability in violating sex trafficking and child sexual abuse laws.

We represent two boys who were groomed by an apparent pedophile online when they were both 13. Their child sexual abuse images were uploaded to Twitter, where they were viewed, tweeted, and retweeted thousands of times. There were hundreds of downloads. The boys and their families contacted Twitter and demanded that the images be removed. Twitter responded by stating, in writing, that it had viewed the images; they did not violate Twitter policies and would not be removed. It was only with the help of an official from the Department of Homeland Security, who contacted Twitter directly, that Twitter deleted the sexually explicit images of the boys from its site. But the damage had been done.

Why do these platforms think they can get away with this? Well, there is a federal law that went on the books in 1997, ironically named the Communications Decency Act (CDA). Rather than promoting “decency,” it did the opposite. Section 230 of that law purports to give online platforms absolute immunity from third-party content uploaded to the sites. The platforms even claim it immunizes them from liability when monetizing uploaded rape videos and child pornography. These platforms have used CDA 230 as a shield protecting them from the consequences of their bad behavior since its enactment.

In response, Congress passed two laws in 2018 called FOSTA (Fight Online Sex Trafficking Act) and SESTA (“Stop Enabling Sex Traffickers Act). The National Center on Sexual Exploitation was instrumental in passing these laws. FOSTA-SESTA essentially removes CDA 230 immunity when online platforms such as Pornhub and Twitter engage in a venture with sex traffickers or benefit from sex trafficking.

Our class action case against Pornhub is moving forward. As in our Twitter case, the federal district court judge rejected Pornhub’s claim of immunity under CDA 230. In a first-in-the-nation ruling, the federal court held that there could be no immunity for disseminating child sexual abuse material on the internet or anywhere else, as Pornhub has done.

One wonders why companies like Twitter and Pornhub allow their platforms to be used to disseminate child sexual abuse material. There is big money in it through advertising and paywalls. And, at least for Twitter, as long as the public generally remains ignorant of its business practice, there is no reputational risk.

Immediately after the publication of a December 2020 New York Times article called “The Children of Pornhub,” Pornhub deleted over 11 million videos from its site. This article was an exposé on the immense volume of child sexual abuse material on the Pornhub site. The fact that Pornhub knew exactly which 11 million videos to delete is telling. Prior to the article, there had been countless complaints to the site about child sexual abuse material with no action taken.

Twitter likes to promote that it has a “no tolerance policy” for child sexual abuse material. The reality is that there are thousands of child sexual abuse images bought, sold, and traded on Twitter every single day. Its “no tolerance policy” is a complete sham. Indeed, in its pleadings in federal court, it is asserting the position that it can do business with sex traffickers without losing its federal immunity. We will soon see what the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals thinks of that argument.

Eventually, it will take a conclusive ruling from the United States Supreme Court that CDA 230 provides no immunity for platforms like Twitter and Pornhub, both of which allow sex trafficking and child sexual abuse material on their sites. In the meantime, children like Jane and Sarah will continue to be victimized, and Pornhub and Twitter will continue to rake in profits from their images.

In the meantime, we will continue to pursue justice for survivors and work to hold online pornography companies to account.

The post The Horrifying Reality of Child Porn and its Enablers appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Religion provides unique opportunities for reflection and escape through practices like prayer, scripture study, and worship services—and even extended escape such as the upcoming General Conference.

In a world that often worships busyness and multitasking, if we don’t carve out time for developing our spiritual core, we will soon find it waning. By embracing religious practices, we can find moments of stillness and connection that can enhance our overall well-being and quality of life.

The Benefits of Reflection and Escape

Reflection is the process of examining our thoughts, feelings, actions, and experiences to gain insight, learning, and meaning. Escape is the act of withdrawing from the stressors and pressures of everyday life to find peace, relaxation, and joy. Both reflection and escape have many benefits for our physical, mental, emotional, and social health.

According to research, reflection gives the brain an opportunity to pause amidst the chaos, untangle and sort through observations and experiences, consider multiple possible interpretations, and create meaning. This meaning becomes learning, which can then inform future mindsets and actions. Reflection can also help us improve our self-awareness, which can lead to better decision-making and performance, increased empathy, reduced stress, enhanced creativity, and greater happiness.

Escape can also have positive effects on our well-being. According to studies, spending time alone or in silence can help us promote self-awareness, reduce stress, improve memory, boost immunity, lower blood pressure, increase happiness, and foster creativity. Escape can also help us reconnect with ourselves, our values, our passions, and our purpose.

The Challenges of Finding Time for Reflection and Escape

Despite the benefits of reflection and escape, many people struggle to find time for them in their lives. Some of the challenges they face include:

• Busy schedules: Many people have hectic lifestyles that leave them little room for leisure, hobbies, or rest.
• Constant distractions: Many people are constantly exposed to noise, media, notifications, and other stimuli that compete for their attention and prevent them from focusing on their inner thoughts or feelings.
• Pressure to be productive: Many people feel guilty or anxious about taking time off or doing nothing. They may believe that they have to be always working or achieving something. They may also face expectations from others (such as family, friends, employers, or themselves (such as goals) that make them feel obligated or compelled to keep busy.

These challenges are partly influenced by cultural trends that devalue or discourage reflection and escape, such as:

• The cult of busyness: This is the idea that being busy is a sign of success, intelligence, or importance. It creates a sense of urgency or competition that makes people feel like they have to do more or do it faster.
• The myth of multitasking: This is the belief that doing multiple things at once is more efficient, effective, or desirable. It leads people to divide their attention or switch between tasks without fully engaging with any of them.
• The fear of missing out: This is the anxiety that one might miss something important, interesting, or fun. It drives people to constantly check their devices, social media accounts, or news sources, even when they are supposed to be relaxing or reflecting.

The Role of Religion in Providing Opportunities for Reflection and Escape

One way that people can overcome these challenges and find time for reflection and escape is through religion. Religion can provide opportunities for reflection and escape through various practices, such as:

• Prayer: Prayer is a form of communication with God or a higher power that allows people to express their gratitude, requests, confessions, praises, or questions. It  can help people reflect on their lives, their relationship with God, their values, and their goals. It can also help them escape their worries, fears, or troubles and find peace, comfort, or guidance.

• Scripture study: Scripture study is the practice of reading and studying sacred texts that contain the teachings and revelations of God or a higher power. It can help people reflect on their faith, their understanding of God, their morals, and their actions. It can also help them escape from the distractions and temptations of the world and find wisdom, inspiration, or direction.
• Worship services: Worship services are gatherings of believers who come together to worship God or a higher power through various forms such as singing, listening to sermons, participating in rituals, or sharing testimonies. They can help people reflect on their community, their role in God’s plan, their gratitude, and their commitment. They can also help them escape their isolation, loneliness, or stress and find joy, fellowship, or support.

The Unique Benefits of Religious Reflection and Escape

Religious reflection and escape differ from secular practices such as mindfulness or meditation in several ways. One of the main differences is that religious reflection and escape involve a connection with God or a higher power, who is seen as a source of love, grace, mercy, and truth. This connection can provide spiritual benefits that go beyond the physical or mental benefits of secular practices.

It may seem obvious, but taking time to be religious increases our faith. Religious reflection and escape can strengthen one’s faith in God or a higher power by increasing one’s awareness of His presence, His power, His goodness, His will, His promises, His guidance, His forgiveness, and His love Faith can help one overcome doubts, fears, trials, temptations, or challenges. Faith is more than commitment to your religious idealogy; it’s an attribute that contributes to strong mental health. 

Taking opportunities to reflect on the spiritual can give you an increased understanding of God which helps people be more confident. Religious reflection and escape can deepen one’s understanding of God or a higher power by increasing one’s knowledge of His attributes, His works, His ways, His purposes, His commands, His expectations, His gifts, and His plans. Understanding can help one appreciate God more, trust Him more, obey Him more, serve Him more, praise Him more, and glorify Him more.

Religious reflection and escape can reveal one’s purpose and meaning in life by increasing one’s alignment with God’s plan for oneself, for others, for the world, and for eternity. Purpose and meaning can help one find fulfillment, happiness, hope, motivation, direction, and resilience.

And lastly, when we take time to be religious not in a silo, but as part of a broader religious community, it can affirm one’s belonging and identity as a child of God or a follower of a higher power by increasing one’s recognition of His love, His grace, His mercy, His acceptance, His adoption, His calling, and His inheritance. This is true even when we are partaking in the same event virtually, such as general conference. Belonging and identity can help one feel valued, loved, secure, confident, worthy, and unique.

Religious reflection and escape are practices that can enhance one’s mental health by providing physical, mental, and spiritual benefits. They can help people reflect on various aspects of their lives and faith and escape from various sources of stress and negativity. They can also help people connect with God or a higher power, who can provide them with faith, understanding, purpose, meaning, belonging, and identity. A religious escape can ultimately improve our happiness, well-being, and quality of life.

The post Religious Retreat Recharges Your Mind, Body, and Soul appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

There’s one major exception. For the category of beliefs where there is an immediate, objective outcome then—in that case—what people believe and what is true will fall quickly into general correspondence. It’s very expensive to have fanciful, bizarre beliefs about everyday things like which side of the road you should drive on, or what happens if you spill boiling water on yourself, or how the people in your day-to-day life are going to react to your behavior. From everyday physics to our mental models of other human beings, practical beliefs are constrained by feedback to be relatively accurate.

But there is a vast range of beliefs that don’t have any obvious and direct consequences for us. Do people still discipline their beliefs in these categories to conform to reason and evidence? No, they most certainly do not.

Walker Wright covered this in his series of posts on voter ignorance. He summarized the economic literature that explains not only the basic fact that voters are astoundingly ignorant on topics ranging from economics to the basic workings of the American government, but also explained why this is so. In a nutshell: learning is expensive (in time and effort even if not in money) and the statistical value of casting a single informed vote is very low. So, according to the basic assumption of rational self-interest, why bother studying to try and learn the truth? By and large, most Americans don’t.

In the second piece of the series, Wright cited Bryan Caplan who said, “Since delusional political beliefs are free, the voter consumes until he reaches his “satiation point,” believing whatever makes him feel best.” What Caplan means by “free” in this context is that there’s no penalty to being wrong about your political beliefs. 

If you’re fundamentally mistaken in your belief about how gravity works (in a practical, everyday sense) you’re going to hurt yourself. Delusional practical beliefs are expensive. But if you’re fundamentally mistaken in your belief about politics (or religion, or history, or science if you’re not a scientist, etc.), nobody is going to make you suffer for it. In that sense, the belief is free.

Wright also cited Arthur Brooks, who explicitly tied the American penchant for extreme (and ignorant) political beliefs to religion. “Not real religion,” Brooks clarified, “but rather, a secular substitute in which they believe with perfect certainty in the correctness of their political dogmas. People want to hold the truth; questioning is uncomfortable.”

The assertion that “questioning is uncomfortable” is a common one. It’s also an empirically verified one. In 2006, researchers at NYU’s Center for Experimental Social Sciences conducted a subtle experiment to prove that people crave certainty . . . even when that certainty provides no practical benefit whatsoever. 

In the experiment, participants got to take home twenty dollars if they picked which of two boxes held the money. They were told that one specific box was either 60% or 100% likely to contain the money (which meant they should obviously pick that box, since in either case it was more likely to have the money in it).

However, before making their choice, they could pay a small fee to be told exactly how much more likely that particular box was to hold the money—e.g., whether it was 60% or 100% likely. Since the best choice was already obvious, this extra information wouldn’t—or shouldn’t—be influential or decisive, but about 80% of the participants paid the fee anyway.

Various permutations of the experiment were conducted to try and rule out alternative explanations, such as participants failing to really grasp the irrelevance of the knowledge or minimizing the effort of thinking through the problem. In the end, the researchers were left with the same conclusion Brooks and so many others have drawn. In their words, people just like “to feel confident.”

So we have two important insights into how and why humans form beliefs. 

First, beliefs are instrumental. That is, beliefs are tools. You use them to get something. One common way beliefs are used is to build an accurate picture of the world around us. That use—something we often take for granted as the sole purpose of belief—is actually just one among many. Especially when we move outside of simple, straight-forward practical scenarios, correspondence with reality is no longer as useful and people are free to seek other uses from their beliefs. 

What does this look like in practice? What use can you get out of beliefs that are fanciful or even delusional? Well, adopting the beliefs of the people around you—no matter what they are—is a great way to fit in socially. Beliefs become a kind of social glue to hold cliques together. They’re also a kind of social signal, not just to find and solidify your ties with like-minded individuals, but to broadcast high status. Unnecessarily complex beliefs with layer upon layer of nuance are the intellectual equivalent of peacock feathers: they tell everyone that you have the kind of higher education that is a proxy for elite social status in America.

You’re also free to adopt beliefs that paint yourself and your friends in the best light possible. For instance, you can adopt a narrative where you’re the enlightened, brave heroes standing for justice and truth against forces of evil and ignorance. Who cares if it’s an accurate self-image when it’s such a flattering one? 

Or, to spin things around, you can believe things about the outside world that comfort you. Now, the term “conspiracy theory” is becoming controversial, since it’s useful to label unpopular beliefs that way to discredit them, but when it comes to the classic idea that mysterious forces are suppressing knowledge that the Earth is flat or the Moon landings were faked or the like—you might wonder what aspect of conspiracy theories is comforting. The idea of unstoppable, hidden forces pulling the strings behind the scenes sounds like the opposite of comforting, right?

But there is one major aspect to these theories that is indeed comforting: they entail a vision of the world that is ordered and comprehensible. For many people, the pessimism of conspiracy theories is more than offset by the comfort of believing in a world that is predictably ordered instead of chaotic. What’s more, conspiracy theorists often believe that they have privileged insight into how everything really works. 

Even the impotent fatalism of most conspiracy theories has a benefit. Since there’s typically little you can do to effectively fight “them” you don’t actually have to do anything about the bad things happening around you. Conspiracy theories thus offer an ordered universe, special understanding, and little responsibility. Of course people believe them.

So the first of our two insights is that whenever they can get away with it, people will adopt self-deceiving beliefs that paint a flattering picture of themselves and a comforting picture of the world around them.

The second insight is that, having chosen their comforting beliefs, people will go on to invest these oh-so-very-useful beliefs with manufactured certainty. They won’t believe these fairy tales a little; they will believe them a lot. When beliefs are about abstract or theoretical subjects where there is no direct, undeniable feedback for error and overconfidence, people unconsciously gravitate towards a set of beliefs that are comfortable and a degree of certainty in those beliefs that is absolute.  

This explanation—as far as I’ve laid it out so far—is actually a little too powerful. If things were really this bad, then every country in the world would be mired in paralyzing, toxic partisanship all the time. And yet we have a sense, as Americans, that things are worse now than they were ten or twenty or thirty years ago. That partisanship and tribalism, while perennial aspects of the human experience, are getting notably worse now than they have been at other times. What gives? I have a theory.

As we noted earlier, instrumental beliefs play a key role in the formation of tightly knit social cliques defined by their common adherence to a set of ideological orthodoxies. The unanimity of the group on a narrow range of issues creates an illusion of greater, universal unity. Everyone seems to be of “one heart and one mind.” Presto: you have an imitation Zion community.

Within this knockoff Zion, no one needs to worry about being wrong anymore. The mutually reinforcing certainty creates freedom from doubt and second-guessing. Everyone in the group proceeds directly past faith to perfect knowledge, and—once your knowledge is perfect—”your faith is dormant.” (Alma 32:34) This is convenient since faith requires constant effort and attention. Perfect knowledge is easier.

There’s more, however. The members of these groups often consider themselves to be anxiously engaged in important, vital work. Fighting injustice, standing for liberty, etc. This, too, fits with our conception of salvation: you have entered a rest from doubt or care, but there is still much work to do that is fulfilling and meaningful. 

Of course, in reality, the “work” these groups are engaged in is not real. It’s just slacktivism. Barney Frank summed this dynamic up in an interview for The New Yorker: 

I have a rule that I have tried to propagate among my friends on the Left. If you care deeply about a cause and you are then engaged on behalf of that cause in an activity that makes you feel very good and very brave and you’re really in solidarity with all your friends, and you’re enjoying it, you’re probably not advancing the cause very much, because you’re spending all your time with people you agree with cheering each other on and not engaging.

This is what you get for your instrumental beliefs: dogmatically unified cliques where everyone is free from error and all are involved in rewarding, heroic struggles for righteous causes. It’s not the real salvation promised by Christianity, but it’s clearly an imitation of it. 

This explains why this particular set of dysfunctions—always latent in any society—is surging in America here and now. Secularism and skepticism have proven much better at tearing down the old beliefs and conventions and traditions that went before than they have at erecting anything to take their place. As traditional religions decline, they leave in their wake a host of unmet needs that are still shaped and conditioned by the expectations and promises of the now-receding faiths.

What’s worse, these unmet needs are no longer situated in a context of hope that fosters patience. Within a Christian context, expectations for certain knowledge and perfect unity were understood to be a part of a long-unfolding process that would inevitably reach fulfillment both personally and communally, but not necessarily right now. 

Paul provided an example of this in his first Epistle to the Corinthians: “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” So Christianity gave both the expectations that define our conception of salvation, and the hope for their eventual fulfillment. In the wake of Christianity the expectation remains, but not the hope. And if the hope departs, then so too must the patience. 

That is the context in which so many have decided to stop waiting and hoping for the real thing (they no longer believe in it anyway) and instead settle for an imitation that, for all its flaws, they can have today.  

Why wait if there’s nothing to wait for? Accept some particular man-made philosophy as the absolute truth now, and you can enter into a reassuring rest with your fellow counterfeit saints. You won’t actually accomplish anything, of course, but it will feel great.

In the coming essays, I will explore how the brittle fragility of counterfeit salvation leads to extremism, warps and weakens even faith in things that are true, and differs dramatically from genuine conviction.

The post Certainty is a Counterfeit Salvation appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

What does it matter that Payton Gendron was lured into an online house of horrors? Gendron is the young man who killed 10 people at a grocery store in an African American neighborhood in Buffalo. He deliberately targeted both the neighborhood and the store in order to maximize the number of Blacks he could kill. Knowing this, why should we care that in the months before the shooting, he was systematically drawn ever deeper into darkness, groomed to believe he is a savior to his race and that sainthood awaited him just beyond a curtain of righteous violence?

Many people will tell you that Gendron’s recent and remote history doesn’t matter at all. That is certainly the view of Richard Vatz and Jeffrey Schaler, for example, who took to the pages of the Baltimore Sun to call for the young man’s execution. Though trained in the workings of the mind, the two were singularly uninterested in Gendron’s. Instead, they denounced him as a “monster” and “evil personified,” epithets apparently intended to dissuade us from wondering how a child born with promise could become filled with hate. “It doesn’t matter why he did it,” they assure us. What matters is that “[h]e did it; he must pay for his acts.”

But I do not mean to single them out; I’m sure many others feel the same way. Under ordinary circumstances, most of us have little trouble grasping the difference between an explanation and an excuse. One accounts for while the other absolves. Yet when it comes to egregious wrongs, the distinction can slip through our fingers. We may resist any attempt to understand the wrong, turning our hearts and minds against the effort as though it were a surreptitious ploy to escape blame. This determinedly closed habit of mind is a veritable calling card of our unforgiving society and was much on display after September 11. Alan Dershowitz, for instance, argued that it was a dangerous mistake “to try to understand [terrorism] or eliminate its alleged root causes.” Like others, he seems to believe something bad will happen if we judge a wrong and inquire why it happened at the same time, as though the latter detracts from the former.

Yet contrary to the insistence of Professors Vatz and Schaler, Gendron’s history obviously does matter. How else to explain the urgent calls to regulate online content? If we believed online radicalization was irrelevant—that it was no more consequential than online cat videos—there would be no clamor to control it. There would be no suggestion that online platforms be liable for the hatred they spew and the damage they cause; there would be no call to prosecute hate-mongers who use the anonymity of online platforms to seduce others into violence; there would be no insistence that these platforms not be allowed to regulate themselves.

This is why we fault Donald Trump for lying to his followers that the 2020 election was “stolen” and inflaming them to storm the U.S. Capitol to “stop the steal.” It is not because his manipulations relieve the insurrectionists of legal responsibility; his lies and exhortations do not create a legal excuse. Instead, we extend blame to include Trump because we cannot otherwise make sense of what happened. Hundreds of people did not just appear at the Capitol on January 6, and I have never heard anyone argue that the insurrection would have occurred were it not for Trump’s manipulations. His behavior matters not because it renders the insurrectionists blameless but because they are not solely to blame, and to fix all the blame on them denies a self-evident reality. As the philosopher Judith Butler wrote of a different group of terrorists, “Those who commit acts of violence are surely responsible for them; they are not dupes or mechanisms of an impersonal social force, but agents with responsibility. On the other hand, these individuals are formed, and we would be making a mistake if we reduced their actions to purely self-generated acts of will or symptoms of individual pathology or ‘evil.’”

Another way to grasp the import of Gendron’s radicalization is to imagine a slightly different situation. Suppose someone manipulated another into taking their own life. Suppose, for example, they used “psychological pressure” or “actual or ostensible religious, political, social, philosophical or other principles” to convince a person that they had to end it all. There is no universe in which we would think the manipulator’s behavior “doesn’t matter,” which helps explain why nearly every state in the country makes it a crime to induce another to commit suicide. In fact, the language I have quoted here comes from the Illinois statute, which seems especially aimed at criminalizing precisely the sort of coercive pressure exerted by online radicalizers who act in the ostensible service of “religious, political, social, philosophical, or other principles.”

And though we might disagree about whether any given manipulator should be convicted—a judgment that would depend on the fit between the language of the statute and the facts of the case—we would have no trouble describing the person who committed suicide as a victim. That is certainly how the law describes them. And frankly, what other word makes sense? To be sure, we might also be angry at the person who dies by suicide for the pain they cause among friends and family members left behind, but surely part of our anger and hurt—and maybe the larger part—would be directed at the person or people who set events in motion. 

If we believe someone is a victim when they are manipulated to act against themselves, why should it be different if they are manipulated to act against others, especially if the expectation is that they will also be killed? To put the question somewhat differently, where is it written that a person cannot be a victim and a perpetrator at the same time? Admittedly, we are conditioned to recoil from this framing. We mentally resist the suggestion that Payton Gendron could (also) be a victim. The word sticks in our throats when we see the great pain he caused, a purposeful and pointless misery that carves an emptiness that time will never fill. We reserve victim for the innocent, for the people he slaughtered and the peace he shattered. Payton Gendron is emphatically not innocent.

But what he did to others does not diminish what was done to him. 

Finding Belonging in Rage

After Gendron’s rampage, New York Governor Kathy Hochul directed State Attorney General Letitia James to investigate the role of online platforms in his radicalization. In the report that followed, James described how Gendron “made extensive use of online platforms to immerse himself in the rank hatred of the online white supremacist milieu, to plan his attack in great detail, and to livestream his shooting. He documented his actions for posterity, relying on the power of the internet and online platforms to perpetuate his disturbing deeds. Indeed, within hours of the shooting, graphic videos and images of his attack were widely disseminated across all corners of the internet.”

Gendron answered the call. Like many before him, he was seduced by the “great replacement” theory, the hoary but elastic idea that Jews (and in some versions, Muslims) are conspiring to replace white, Christian civilization, sometimes by encouraging immigration from undesirables, other times by out-reproducing whites. The theory is already responsible for a mountain of misery, including the terrorist attack in Christchurch that launched Gendron on his journey, along with assaults on Jews, Latinos, and Blacks. On 4chan, carnage in defense of whiteness is celebrated, and attackers become saints, which draws ever more faithful to the fight. And whenever Gendron wavered, it was 4chan that brought him back. “Every time I think maybe I shouldn’t commit to an attack, I spend 5 min [on 4chan], then my motivation returns.”

Though it adds important detail about Gendron’s trajectory from bored teenager to race warrior, nothing in James’ report is new. We have known for years that white supremacist platforms systematically target, groom, and radicalize vulnerable people like Gendron, many of them young and socially isolated. And they’ve gotten quite good at it, luring the Gendrons of the world by supplying a sense of community. Radicalizers appeal to the fundamental human need to belong and live a meaningful life. No two seductions into radicalism are exactly alike, but they are all seductions. Radicalizers are keenly attuned to the language of unmet needs—of loneliness, abandonment, emptiness, and despair—and respond with affirmation, warmth, camaraderie, and purpose. Step by step, in the online echo chamber, they surround the vulnerable with new messages and ease them from one life to another: new values; new existential threats; a new us, a new them. Imperceptibly at first but with gathering intensity, a new life tightens its grip as the old loses its hold. 

For some recruits, in rapturous thrall to a new identity, fealty comes unforced. Beliefs that once would have seemed bizarre are now self-evident; behavior that once would have been unthinkable is now heroic. In his rambling, 180-page manifesto, Gendron included an image from a video created by Daniel Harris, a 19-year-old white supremacist in England whose racist videos warned that whiteness would perish from a “planned genocide” unless warriors rallied to its defense. Two months before the shooting, Gendron left a comment under one of Harris’ videos: “You are not alone my friend :).” Harris is now serving a 12-year sentence in England for terrorism.

From what we know, it appears Gendron was the ideal target for this online radicalization. Associates describe him as quiet and studious but also isolated and lonely. Matthew Cassado, a classmate and friend, said the other students didn’t want to hang out with Gendron because “they didn’t want to be known as friends with a kid who was socially awkward and nerdy.” Even Casado palled around with him only because Gendron’s mother called Casado’s mother with a parent’s saddest plea: Please ask Matthew to call Payton because he has no friends and needs to talk. Gendron was thus denied what none of us can live without—the feeling that he belonged. Gendron’s neighbors did not see the radicalism building within him as he was drawn to a new identity—one person described him as “evasive”—but in accelerating isolation and desperation, Gendron seems to have turned to the only place that welcomed him wholeheartedly and gave him the sense of belonging and purpose that all of us need—the fetid swamps of online persecution and rage. 

No one suggests that Gendron would have committed his crime were it not for the manipulations of others, who set his crime in motion and share in his blame. Gendron’s behavior is intelligible only as a product of—and a participant in—the ever-expanding universe of online white supremacist rage. As much as any wrongdoer, he is part of the culture around him. A culture that thrives on rage. Where demonization is a first impulse rather than a last resort. Where online hatred is fueled by larger patterns of demographic decline, anomie, and isolation. Where political institutions cannot meet global challenges, which opens space for fear-mongers and conspiracists. We want to believe that online spaces like 4chan exist in a parallel universe that never touches our own. But many of the views Gendron consumed online are, as others have observed, alarmingly close to mainstream Republican orthodoxy. Meanwhile, the outrage machine that fires a white-hot, Manichean rage in much of society is now completely bi-partisan.

No, Payton Gendron is not innocent. He is something much more. He is a human being. He is complex. Damaged. Broken. He is a perpetrator responsible for his actions. He is a victim, manipulated into believing a lie. The struggle to comprehend all this—to grasp fully the tangled complexity of Gendron’s innocence and his guilt, of his humanity—is not a subterranean ploy to excuse him. It is something far more ambitious and vital. It is an effort to understand the truth, which I use as James Baldwin did more than half a century ago. Truth implies “a devotion to the human being. … [A human being] is not, after all, merely a member of a Society or a Group or a deplorable conundrum to be explained by Science. He is … something more than that, something resolutely indefinable, unpredictable.”

In the place of this compassionate but complex truth, many people substitute the cheap, dime-store image of Gendron as a monster, which allows them to bury themselves beneath the covers and shut their minds to their greatest fear: Payton Gendron is us. He is a product of modern society—our society. But their fear is their weakness, and Baldwin had it right: Gendron’s complexity “is nothing more than the disquieting complexity of ourselves.” “In overlooking, denying, evading his complexity, we are diminished, and we perish; only within this web of ambiguity, paradox, this hunger, danger, darkness can we find at once ourselves and the power that will free us from ourselves.”

A fear of critical inquiry and the truth it might reveal is hardly new; it was already old when the Catholic Church denounced Galileo Galilee for the heretical suggestion that the Earth moved around the sun. But we are not in the 17th century, and today the truth is a heresy that strikes at a different dogma. Today, the great heresy is the terrifying idea that, in all the ways that matter, we are the same.

The post How a “Normal” Teenager Became a Desperate Mass Murderer appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

What can we learn from people who find sustainable healing from depression?  This has been a question burning under my fingernails ever since learning about a remarkable researcher named Kelly Turner.  

Dr. Kelly Turner noticed something usual in her early studies at the University of California at Berkeley. Across the 1,000+ known cases of “spontaneous” or “radical” remission from cancer (where someone finds lasting healing after being told by their doctor that they were going to die), very few questions were typically asked of the survivors themselves. So, she set about doing just that—conducting interviews with initially just 20 people and ultimately gathering many hundreds of stories all around the world.   

Her findings are summarized in the bestseller, Radical Remission: Surviving Cancer Against All Odds, now translated into 22 languages—along with Radical Hope: 10 Key Healing Factors from Exceptional Survivors of Cancer & Other Diseases. Dr. Turner’s work has been an inspiration to many families facing cancer—and a reminder to the rest of us not to overlook important things that can be learned from especially encouraging cases.  

Fixated on the hardest realities. If you’ve ever studied the history of psychology, you can appreciate how much the entire mental health field could benefit from this kind of reminder. Even those who love psychology know it’s had a fixation on lurid and worst-case scenarios for a long time. That’s precisely why positive psychology (ala Martin Seligman, Barbara Fredrickson, Ed Diener, and many others) has also been so refreshing. 

Even so, this focus on the negative has been so captivating for so long that it’s common to find mental health professionals who are convinced that no healing from depression (or other mental health conditions) is even possible. “People don’t get better from this,” one doctor told me once. So convinced are some about the impossibility of healing that when they hear a story of someone claiming to have experienced healing, their first inclination is to doubt that they ever experienced (real) depression in the first place.  

This is partly what has motivated me to take a similar approach as Dr. Turner, but applied to the surprising numbers of depression healing stories out there. For many years now, I’ve been gathering accounts of deep or lasting healing from depression, anxiety, and other mental health conditions. Some are people I’ve interviewed; others are individuals who have published memoirs, blog accounts, or videos on Youtube. So many of these stories are profoundly inspiring. I used to collect basketball and baseball cards—now I collect stories of profound and beautiful healing. 

So, what can be learned by looking across these many personal stories of deeper emotional healing? In what follows, I will act as a “tour guide” as we walk through some of the most interesting patterns arising in an analysis of nearly 80 stories of people sharing about their own experience finding deep and lasting healing from serious cases of depression. This research was funded and made possible by Impact Suite and Malouf—which developed the Lift app for depression and anxiety.  I presented a small summary of these findings in a 2022 Liahona article entitled “New Hope for Deeper Healing from Depression and Anxiety.” 

The extent of deep and profound pain. Fair warning: some of these stories may be surprising to hear and, in some cases, challenging to ideas held by many (including the belief that true depression is inherently chronic). For that reason, I begin this introduction by giving you a glimpse of what people say about their own initial experience of profound pain, followed by a glimpse of the eventual happiness they speak of finding. The reality of the agony faced by narrators of the stories included in this analysis was real (and don’t forget, these are the same people who eventually found deeper, more sustainable emotional healing):  

• “I had been fighting with severe clinical depression; it robbed me of my life, of enjoying my husband and children.” (2)
• “For ten months, I was assailed by out-of-control anxiety attacks which alternated with dark, suicidal depressions. Each day felt like an eternity as I struggled to stay alive in the face of overwhelming feelings of hopelessness and despair. … Having run out of options, I felt as if I were trapped in a dark tunnel in which both ends were sealed off, and a sign on the door read, ‘No Exit.’” (4)  
• “The sky turned threatening. Bleak, dark, so dark. Empty. No motivation. Wanting badly to surrender, retreat—from life, from people, from work, from responsibility. I never imagined that there could be emotional and psychological pain so overwhelming it made me desperate for relief. I could and do understand how many people turn to various kinds of escape … Some days, I was gasping for breath and hoping not to drown.” (6)
• “I can hardly eat, sleep, or think straight. The only thing I can do is cry unending tears.” After the birth of her first child, her husband discovered her in the backyard, “clawing the earth furiously with my bare hands, intent on digging a grave so that I could bury myself alive.” (40) 
• “Grief and sadness clung to me like it was part of my own flesh.” (42)
• “I was in hell.”  During 26 months of hospitalization, this woman was, for a considerable part of this time, “one of the most disturbed patients in the hospital.” (43)
• “Days passed with me in bed, overwhelmed by a sensation of falling, spiraling, and spinning into a pitch-black tunnel day after bleak day. … It felt as though every nerve in my body was popping. Imagine large strong hands slowly applying pressure while breaking a family-size package of uncooked, dry spaghetti. I was the spaghetti.” (47)
• One woman’s depression felt so severe that she felt it might “vaporize her into millions of tiny molecules.” (66) 
• “I was struggling with grief and bereavement when my husband unexpectedly ended our thirteen-year relationship. I was devastated, suicidal, and felt completely alone. I had severe anxiety, waking up every morning with horrible dreams and panic attacks. I was also constantly crying, unfocused, and had no appetite.” (77)
• “I just want the pain to stop … Let’s just say if a car were coming towards me, I wouldn’t scream, I wouldn’t cry, I wouldn’t run, I would just stand there.” (94)
• “When I got depressed or anxious, I used to feel like a dark curtain was being drawn over my brain. It seemed almost physical.” This man remembers praying, “God, please help me make my mind stop torturing me,” and how a new day felt, “The alarm goes off, or you are probably awake before it even rings. A new day, and it is nanoseconds before you feel that dread in your stomach, that fear of what the day will bring. I’ve had these mornings in abundance.  I know that feeling like I know that water gets wet.” (96) 
• One man’s wife recounted in an interview with the couple, “Something was different. I saw him on the floor, and I knew it was depression.” She went on to describe “5 years of really, really dark depression,”—recollecting that during these years, “he suffered greatly, and had multiple symptoms of depression, including daily suicidal thoughts. He was in a deep darkness.” (108)
• “The sky turned threatening. It was bleak, dark, so dark. Empty. I had no motivation.”

In addition to the sheer intensity of their prior experience with depression, many of these people suffered for many years, even “decades of unrelenting depression.” The instigators and contributors to this agony are widely varied, with people speaking about a wide variety of circumstances—from brutal and intense trauma (trafficked at 7 years old) to current circumstances influencing their emotional burden (painful health challenges, etc.). There is so much more to the painful backdrops that couldn’t be included, but one woman’s story illustrates the complexity well: 

“I was an empty shell … thirty years old and ready to die. I didn’t know who I was. I had been drinking since I was thirteen and drugging since I was sixteen. I had my first death wish at age twelve and tried to kill myself, but I was too scared to jump off the pier. I sat on that pier half the night, crying and praying for an end to my miserable life. I tried again when I was fifteen. That time I took seventeen downers, wrote half a dozen good-bye notes and was astonished to wake up the next day and find that it hadn’t worked. I was supposed to be dead! … The hopelessness of that moment still tugs at my heart. … My third and most serious suicide attempt was at age twenty-four. My drug-addicted husband had beaten me for the hundredth time—punching me and kicking me until I was half-senseless. My two babies were sleeping peacefully in their cribs. I went into my bedroom and swallowed the remainder of my new tranquilizer prescription—about twenty-four pills. I woke up in the intensive care unit three days later. … I withdrew into myself even more than before. … Only with daily use of marijuana and beer could I function at all.”

“I went in and out of depression for the next six years and the thought of suicide never left me. I hated myself so much. Eventually, I just hung on for my babies who were getting bigger every year. I felt that I would live until they could fend for themselves, and then I would kill myself and get it over with once and for all. I was so sick and out of touch that I thought my children would be able to handle losing their mother to suicide when they reached ages six and seven. … I spent some of the time on the bathroom floor, begging God to help me, asking why God wouldn’t help me. But most of the time I was in bed with the pillows and the covers over my head alternately sleeping and crying. I had reached that awful impasse of being too afraid to live and too afraid to die. Having tried everything to help myself, and having failed, I had reached the bottom. I was thirty years old, and I had wasted my life.” (12)

This same woman later spoke of how well she was, including how she had “recently graduated from the State University with honors,” and that she was “currently in graduate school,” with a “goal is to be a therapist.” (12) It’s this contrast between before and after which is so striking—and which makes these narratives so exciting to study. 

The possibility of deepening healing. Every story included in this analysis was selected based on two fundamental criteria: (1) as evident above, clear indicators of real and serious depression (not just a few bad days), and (2) equally clear indicators of having experienced some degree of deep and lasting healing [numbers in parenthesis correspond to the participant # in the study]. See for yourself the kind of peace and healing people in this review found:  

• “It was as if a heavy curtain was drawn back from the window of my soul, and I could see my true self in the light for the very first time. For the first time in my life, I felt settled, calm, and peaceful.” (46) 
• “Today is my birthday, and it’s the first birthday in a long time that I truly felt like celebrating. I now have a life that I love, and wake up grateful for it every day. … Today, my life is amazing. It’s not just an improvement over my old life but rather a completely new universe. I don’t really know how to explain it; I never knew that life could be like this! Life is easy and enjoyable; it’s not a daily struggle to convince myself to get out of bed and get myself motivated to do simple tasks. I will catch myself smiling or singing for no reason. I’ve laughed and danced more in the last month than I have in the last 10 years combined. I am so excited to be alive. I didn’t even know that it was possible to feel this much joy and contentment. What’s wild is that I know my body is still healing, so things are just going to get better!” (51)
• “It’s hard to put into words what coming out of depression feels like. All I know is that I feel right now in a way that I thought I’d never be able to again.” (65) 
• “I am totally healed from depression. I have never struggled with depression for over two decades now. I’ve gone through some hard times since then, some really difficult times. I’ve felt sadness and anger at times. Those are temporary emotions, so [they are] very different from soul-killing depression. I have learned how to be healed from depression. When the blackness of depression creeps anywhere close to me, I now know how to fight it and win … really win … not just push it down, put on a happy face and act like everything is okay.  I’ve learned how to actually be profoundly happy, content, and at peace deep in my soul. Yes, it is really true. I’m not faking it.  I am healed.  I believe that everyone is capable of being healed from depression as well.” (69)
• “I have no depression in my life whatsoever — literally none. I have sadness, and joy, and elation, and satisfaction, and gratitude beyond belief. But all of it is weather, and it just spins around the planet. It doesn’t sit on me long enough to kill me. It’s just ideas.” (73)
• “Now, thankfully, I don’t get depressed.” (78) 
• “I was completely healed—totally free of all those things.” (101)
• “Life has never been this good before—I enjoy my life and feel peace.” (102)  
• “My life is now full of purpose, I appreciate things more, and I am much happier than I ever was. I’m in a good place right now.”

To be clear, these are not intended as pre-post outcome measures since they are not presented here as before-after glimpses from the same stories. Rather, I’m referencing here especially notable examples from different stories to paint a picture of how vivid the shift has been in these people’s lives—which is a characteristic of all of these stories. This is especially evident in the contrast within individual stories, for instance: 

• One man described his life as starting with a “seemingly endless sea of pain, fear, rage, guilt, grief, and loneliness.” => But he eventually describes coming to “live a life of deep peace and boundless joy.” (44)
• Another individual said, “I was so depressed that I could hardly motivate myself to do anything” [telling loved ones] how horrible I felt and how hopeless everything seemed,” adding that “they were so afraid that I may try and hurt myself.” => “About four months ago, I remember telling friends that I felt ‘normal.’ Not manically happy or incredibly depressed, but content. I told them that I don’t think I had ever felt that way before. The feeling hasn’t left. I have now been off of all my psychiatric medications for two months. My job is going great, and I feel blessed.” (71)
• A third said, “Suicide was never an option for me, but I thought about it and fought against those thoughts for years. In the meantime, I had my good days along with the not-so-good ones. The last 5 years got worse and worse. I finally gave in to the fact that I would end up feeling tethered to a life I hated every day of. … I may never like life again, and this must be what enduring to the end means. I never thought I would like life or enjoy any of it again. I never thought the words I love life would ever come out of my mouth from an automatic thought” => “I can’t sit back and hold this in any longer. People need to know! Depression and anxiety do not need to be a lifelong sentence of misery! Healing—it is possible! I am living proof!!” (109)

A healing work in progress. To be clear, while some of these people talk about their healing as completed and finished, others speak of a degree of substantial healing they are still seeking: 

• “I pray for healing. Mine has reached a point that, at one time, I would not have thought possible, considering where my long journey started.” (36)
• “I do struggle from time to time … and have learned to be patient. I do believe I will be completely healed from ALL mental health issues.” (102)  

Among those still seeking deeper healing, however, they still speak of the state they are in as new and different:

• “As I changed my life in this way, my depression and anxiety have massively reduced. It isn’t a straight line. I still have bad days—because of personal challenges and because I still live in a culture where all the forces we’ve been talking about are running rampant. But I no longer feel pain leaking out of my brain uncontrollably. That’s gone.” (21)
• “Life has not become less demanding, but it cannot harm me as much anymore—and this makes all the difference.” (46)
• Describing his difficult moments, one man insists that this is “not an experience of depression. I had that for years, but now, when the rain comes, it rains, but it doesn’t stay. It doesn’t stay long enough to immerse me and drown me anymore.” (73)  
• “I’m a very happy person now. … I still have ups and downs, of course, but I think no more than anyone else.” (43)

For a condition where relapse is common, the people I studied often point out they are not relapsing anymore. Yet as you can see, this state of deeper healing should not be idealized or overstated either. Every one of these people acknowledges some hard moments and times. But consistently across participants, these times are also qualitatively different than where they were before. 

As you can see, not everyone who speaks about deeper healing talks the same. Some describe depression as something in the past, while others still refer to it as a condition they are “living well” with in their life. As one man said, “Depression doesn’t define me; it isn’t my identity; it just describes my personal odyssey. … We live with depression as a temporary mortal companion, with healing underway already in mortality.” (6) 

Even if complete healing remains a journey, every one of the people reviewed here described having found deeper and more sustainable healing. And there was a sense of confidence, hope and joy in pursuing even more. “I’ve always been fascinated by the few souls I’ve met through my life who seemed to be truly happy,” wrote one person. This person continued:

Even when their life was in a shamble, their smile was genuine, and light beamed from within them. Have you ever met people like that? If you have, you’ll never forget them. Even if you forget their name, their face will always linger in your mind when you think of what happiness is. (26)

After recounting his journey of recovery, another person said, “I had no idea I could ever be that happy.” (25)

In summary, participants needed to show some clear evidence of having suffered from real depression and found some degree of real and lasting healing. Any sign of chronic, enduring disorder was the main exclusion criteria; if that was spotted, they were not included in the review.  

The variety of stories gathered. All this is important foreground to the project being reported here—a project that will be ongoing as I collect more narratives of healing from depression and anxiety. (Although anxiety often figures prominently alongside and interwoven in many depression narratives, stories that center explicitly or exclusively around anxiety will be reported separately in a future analysis. Although most experiences here reflected unipolar depression, there were a few cases of bipolar depression in this review as well).

Naturally, the stories gathered vary a great deal. Some of these accounts are more plainly autobiographical and largely centered on sharing raw experiences, while others are interwoven with life lessons and advice to other sufferers. Sometimes they are shorter, and sometimes longer—with a whole library of beautiful memoirs that I’ve been able to gather and review.  

This points to one of the central limitations of the project. Ideally, each and every person could have been interviewed personally, so they would all field the same questions. I did these kinds of interviews with approximately 20 people—but the rest of the stories were gathered through a variety of other means. Practically speaking, that means I can only know what I can know from what they opt to publish—with areas that remain out of reach. That makes any kind of more standardized, statistical assessment at this point impossible.  

This sampling approach also disallows other questions that could clear up the relative influence of certain factors in someone’s recovery. As it stands, I was often left to evaluate independently whether something that took place in their story of recovery pertained to that healing—or was a fruit and manifestation of that healing.  

All this is to say, none of what I share will be convincing empirically to those wholly doubtful of the possibility of deeper kinds of emotional healing from even serious depression. Yet my central goal is not to persuade people through data like a conventional study. Rather, my aim is to illustrate what the pathway of deeper, more lasting, and sustainable healing actually looks like in real color and detail, based on the experiences of those who have actually found it.  

To those still doubtful, I would add that virtually every one of the individual themes described below has been confirmed in plenty of other empirical research (see my own reviews here and here).

On a personal level, reading the stories of these people has been thrilling and exhilarating—touching beyond belief at times. Special thanks to Christian Lippert and Debbie Lathrop for assisting in the review of these memoirs. And I’d also like to express appreciation to the many people who agreed to interviews and who continue to share their stories with me as part of this project.  

What I am sharing in what follows is approximately 120 pages of analysis based on lessons and insights from across 77 stories. What you will be hearing in these reports is my best attempt to paint a picture—a word mural of sorts—of the major patterns I’m seeing in these stories so far, including

1. Retaining Hope in the Possibility of Deeper Healing. Consistently across stories, you witness a central role for some kind of hope that anything can be fundamentally different—with recurring evidence at how that influences the progress people make emotionally. This raises important questions about the increasingly common professional judgments about depression as an intrinsically chronic disability.
2. Learning and Changing as a Catalyst for Emotional Healing. Learning and growing in different ways also appears to make a significant difference in deeper emotional healing. That includes changing inside and in the details of our external life habits. Here, we explore what participants say about the “Big Three” of nutrition, exercise, and sleep—as well as the basic elements of schedule and financial order.
3. The Many Varieties of Internal Work as a Catalyst for Emotional Healing. Of equal importance to the many kinds of external lifestyle adjustments is the wide scope of internal shifts that take place for people who find deeper healing. These include the less noticeable “Big Three” of mental diet, mental activity, and mental rest, along with that surprisingly challenging ability to be present in different life situations, including the painful ones. Learning to work with thoughts and emotions differently also appears to make a substantial difference for healing.
4. Relationships That Heal & Healing Relationships. If not already a well-established classic observation, it’s become almost cliché to acknowledge the centrality of relationships in human health, both physically and emotionally. That’s clear in this analysis as well.  By “relationships,” of course, we’re referring to the healthy and nurturing kind. Traumatizing and abusive relationships can set anyone back emotionally, and navigating away from toxic connections and through the residue of past trauma was clearly demonstrated again to be crucial for deeper healing from depression.
5. Higher Connection and Deeper Healing. Since most of these other patterns identified here are commonly discussed by mental health professionals, the salience of spirituality in people’s healing stories has been the stand-out surprise of the study so far. Although I’m a person of faith myself, I’m not accustomed to seeing priority attention to God within modern mental health discussions. But over and over, people who had found deeper and more lasting healing describe profoundly transcendent experiences that shifted how they related to God and life as a whole—moments they repeatedly described as consequential to their healing journey. Among other things, these people described no longer feeling alone—and, indeed, feeling precious, loved, and guided in a life they newly experienced as profoundly meaningful and purposive.
6. Increasing Emotional Freedom, Reducing Long-term Dependence. We all know illegal drugs and alcohol can have a devastating impact on people’s emotional health, especially when long-term dependence arises. That’s not controversial in the least. But we have been encouraged to see a reliance on legally prescribed psycho-active medications differently, and for good reason. Many of these prescriptions have proven helpful to people in coping and managing in the short term. What’s clear in many other long-term accounts, however, is that a path of cautious and gentle tapering off antidepressants can be a helpful catalyst to deeper emotional healing. That’s something I’ve observed in interviews for many years, and it came up again clearly and consistently in this review of accounts. Although this topic has received growing attention among researchers, it has received far less attention among the general public.

I finish this exploration of themes with some concluding thoughts about broader patterns and takeaways, however preliminary. By definition, my attempt will be incomplete since each of these people has a profoundly rich experience that even a biography-sized volume wouldn’t quite tap. And once again, I’m necessarily only drawing on the portion of their experiences that I was able to see. In some cases, direct quotes have been edited for readability (in other cases, italics are added to part of a text for emphasis).   

That’s partly why I’m presenting this as a snapshot of what I’ve been able to review and learn so far, rather than something final and definitive. My goal is to continue gathering more stories. Of this writing, I have a number of additional stories to add to this growing analysis, which I hope to update over time. Please send more stories my way—or any feedback or interest in collaboration as well (jzhess@gmail.com). 

I especially hope what follows will be encouraging to anyone currently grappling with the heavy weight of depression—and to those who love them. You deserve more hope and happiness than you have likely found to this point. I believe that with all my heart. And I’m convinced that God wants to lead those earnestly seeking to follow His ways to deeper healing much faster than you know.  I hope some of what I share here will persuade you of the same and that you will begin to find healing miracles in the new year ahead.   

The post Patterns in Stories of Lasting Healing from Depression  appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

I was raised watching boundaries in action. I recall one Christmas when a large box arrived filled with gifts from my grandma. Standing there next to my mom, I watched with excitement as she took each package out and read the name of the recipient. When she paused and pursed her lips toward the end, I knew none of them would be opened. All of the packages went back into the box to be returned with a note: 

“Mom, thank you for thinking of us. You forgot someone very important to us.”

The “someone” being my dad. My Southern Baptist grandma didn’t like him. Not because he was unkind. Dad treated her daughter like a queen and provided tenderly for her grandchildren. But he was a “Mormon boy,” and grandma simply couldn’t abide that.

I don’t know how many times other boundaries were drawn. And I don’t know all the conversations that took place—or those that didn’t. She and my grandma were gone long before talk of “boundaries” began to dominate our cultural landscape. 

Dr. Brene Brown began popularizing boundary talk over a decade ago. I can see that much of what she and others have subsequently taught would have blessed the matriarchs of my family—especially when paired with balancing reminders to keep prioritizing deeper connection. As Dr. Brown has written wisely:  

“Living a connected life ultimately is about setting boundaries, spending less time and energy hustling and winning over people … and seeing the value of working on cultivating connection with family and close friends.”

It’s clear that boundaries can be a valuable tool for our emotional health and especially crucial in abusive situations. Yet could there be times that boundaries may be overapplied and misapplied in ways that can potentially estrange and isolate otherwise beneficial relationships?

• “You can make sure you let them know, ‘My choices are not up for discussion; please don’t mention it again.’”
• “Please do not have discussions with our children about church-related things or take them to church without our permission. I know you’re doing what you think is best and that you have loving intentions, and we are asking you clearly to stop doing this. Thanks, Mom, for respecting this boundary.”​​​​​​​​ ⠀

This is stated quite respectfully. And yet the interactions these kinds of suggestions likely prompt are the moments that break a mother’s (or grandmother’s) heart. I have some very sweet memories of attending church with my grandma and her friends in our fancy polyester pantsuits—with her buying me sparkly birthstone “cross” necklaces and teaching me some pretty cute Bible-belt Baptist “primary” songs. My grandma loved Jesus, and that didn’t feel threatening to my mom and dad or the faith and covenants they lovingly lived in our home; I cherish them to this day. My grandma added to that love for my Savior, and I’m grateful my mom had the wisdom and confidence to not draw a boundary around that.

With a particular focus on “boundaries with the Church” for women with a Latter-day Saint background, Dr. Julie Hanks occupies an important place in the larger discussion. She has elsewhere recommended, “it is helpful to set really clear boundaries if communication between you and your orthodox parents is a pain point. What topics are you willing to discuss with them? What are you not comfortable hearing or talking about?” And in her public teaching and writing, Dr. Hanks encourages responding to questions that feel uncomfortable by saying, “That’s a personal decision, and I’m not interested in discussing it with you.”

There are times in all of our lives when we need to draw some lines. But unbalanced against other aspirations and principles, such boundary advice may effectively harden and estrange relationships with loved ones—suggesting language that shuts down meaningful conversation and encourages family members to essentially cut themselves off from relationships as a whole.

‘Your pain is not my problem.’ This same therapist has also said, “If you choose to communicate your change in faith, it’s okay to let your family be uncomfortable or shocked or feel whatever they feel. You are not the cause of it. You can let them feel what they need to feel.”

An invitation to make space for present feelings can be helpful; however, it excludes the impact we have on others, especially because some expect active members to openly validate the experience of someone walking away. One woman described the difficulty she experienced when a loved one left the Church and let her know she wasn’t allowed to express feelings of dismay:

“The implication that I shouldn’t be sad was hurtful even. To not be sad means I don’t think a choice to leave the Church and step away from promises made matters. It suggests I don’t believe the ramifications are significant and impact generations. It implies I don’t really believe everything I try to live in regard to my testimony. As pleasant as it might make things for them if I weren’t sad, it’s kind of [unfair] to expect me not to be.”

Once again, not taking responsibility for others’ emotions is a healthy psychological principle—especially when emotions are intense. But so also is feeling some of what others are feeling. And that’s where an attitude of “your pain is not my problem” can distract from natural empathy that could otherwise be felt for family members.  

Hearts of the children turned against their fathers + mothers? The depth of love and concern parents have for their children is well-known and central to so much of life. Yet we all know what it’s like to feel undue pressure or lack of space in relation to a parent or other authority figure. When this happens, some guidance around appropriate boundaries can again be helpful. And Dr. Hanks has said: “Part of being an adult is claiming your life as yours instead of trying to fill the mold your parents imagined for you. It’s okay for you to have different expectations and thoughts than they have. They did their job of raising you, and now you get to decide what you want for your life⁠.”  Elsewhere, Dr. Hanks suggested that “Part of maturity is disappointing your parents. It’s about letting go of trying to control how they see you​​​​​​​​.”

However helpful a reminder about healthy parent-child boundaries can be, an overdone emphasis in this direction can start to feel like a contrast with inspired counsel such as, “honor thy father and thy mother that thy days may be long upon the land.” 

My parents weren’t perfect; my husband and I are not, nor will our children be. That’s not an indictment; simply, none are. Yet maybe that’s one reason that the Father of us all provides us with such reminders to not give up on the honor they are due.

What we’re bringing attention to here is the extent to which inadvertent distance might arise from overly aggressive boundary-setting—the kind that can prompt family interactions that are fairly callous and lacking in empathy. In this case, it seems important to balance boundary-setting with sympathy for others’ perspectives.

For instance, none of us likes to hear repeated advice we’re not in a good place to hear—another sensible time for a boundary. Can that be done without insinuating ill motives on the part of people encouraging us in another direction? 

Too often, people are jumping to conclusions that such encouragement is an attempt to “manipulate,” or pressure or “control” others. Dr. Hanks goes on to encourage people in these situations to “ask your family member to not share their spiritual impressions with you”:

“Whether it be ‘dreams’ or ‘spiritual feelings,’ you’re giving their spiritual feelings too much power over you. Your life isn’t their stewardship anymore; it’s yours. Don’t give your family’s spiritual feelings more power over your own. Set those boundaries!” 

We wonder again if this kind of advice—without any further qualification—can inadvertently end up creating not simply space in a relationship, but a chasm, as respect for parental stewardship and sincere inspiration by other family members is hollowed out and replaced with automatic resistance and even contempt. If so, this may help explain why some of these teachings have prompted pain and contention online and offline between former brothers and sisters in the gospel and within families. 

Is some of this boundary advice, then, having unintended effects—essentially giving people an excuse (and professional permission) to close themselves off to their family’s understandable and legitimate feelings? 

Holding onto the possibility of reconciliation. In the most recent season of The Chosen, we see Matthew’s father setting a clear boundary, telling him, “don’t call me Abba … I have no son.” But then Matthew hears the Sermon on the Mount, where Jesus—among other things—encourages followers to proactively seek reconciliation where possible.  

Matthew decides to try just that—returning home with humility and anxiety, wondering if his father will reject him once more. Instead, however, a miracle happens: father and son return to a warm relationship again.  

Do we give up too quickly on this same miracle happening in some of our own relationships?  One friend shared a story of his mother grappling with an invitation from her birth mother to refer to her as “mom.” Though at first it felt awkward, and even in opposition to the advice of a family therapist, she chose to honor the heartfelt request. She did so, not out of a begrudging sense of duty or dismissive of her own feelings, but because, as she said, “Were my feelings more important than the potential of this relationship?” Today she is grateful for the warm mother/daughter relationship they share, built on mutual sacrifice and respect. 

Like many other families, we’ve experienced profound blessings from forgiveness—in what Elder Jeffrey Holland has called the “ministry of reconciliation.” If that was the priority of Jesus in his ministry, should it not be ours as well?  

Once again, there’s no question boundaries can be needful, and we have a responsibility and accountability to these aspects of emotional and relational health. The ancient prophet Nephi felt prompted to draw a clear boundary after his father’s death when it became clear Laman and Lemuel would continue to be a threat to his life and family. And Christ Himself requested mocking and disruptive people to leave and went alone to the mountains to pray. 

As we approach this season and the start of a new year, we simply encourage a balanced emphasis on boundaries that build rather than estrange. When somebody matters, seek reconciliation and forge paths toward forgiveness.

In those efforts, God can meet our deepest needs. A modern-day apostle has taught us how to refortify at such times. “Whenever we struggle or feel exhausted, we can always turn to Heavenly Father and the Savior. They can rescue us and support us because Their capacity is infinite. There are no boundaries to Their healing power.”

Their gifts are eternal and the best protective influence for us all.

The post It’s Time to Rethink Boundaries appeared first on Public Square Magazine.