Do I dare to eat a peach?

April's spiritual seed // the weight of simple decisions

Hello friends,

Happy Sunday!

So many of you reached out to me about last week’s newsletter to share similar feelings and experiences you’ve had. It’s so interesting to find out the thoughts I have that feel like all my own end up being shared experiences. Reconciling the past and the present is something that I’ve thought about a lot lately. I love knowing what resonates with you and what kind of things you’d like me to write about, so, as always, feel free to respond to my email or comment!

If you missed last week’s post, you can read it here:

Reintegrating

One of my favorite poems of all time is The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot. There is something about it that spoke directly to my soul that first time I read it in a literature class in college. I have written multiple analysis essays about it, and spent hours translating it into Mandarin for my final in my Chinese Translation class. I’ve even designed tattoos-I-probably-won’t-get-because-I’m-too-scared based on this poem. SO YEAH. IF YOU DIDN’T FIGURE IT OUT ALREADY, I REALLY LOVE THIS POEM.

Eliot tells a story of the narrator, presumably Prufrock, who watches time pass, people come and go, continuously talks about starting and beginning and leaving, but seems to be paralyzed by the idea of the utter interconnectedness of life.

The questions Eliot asks in this poem start out existential:

And indeed there will be time

To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”

…

Do I dare

Disturb the universe?

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

As the poem goes on, the narrator’s questions seem to become more mundane, more particular, until we get to my favorite line in the whole poem, which is the inspiration for my probably-won’t-happen tattoo:

Do I dare to eat a peach?

When the world feels so perfectly curated, the plan for your life feels so definite, sometimes the weight of seemingly simple decisions can feel heavy.

peaches in our garden last summer

In retrospect, I think this poem impacted me because that was how I felt about my own life. Perfectly curated, divinely orchestrated, I knew what my purpose in life should be from the time I was little: build the Kingdom of God. There was a clear trajectory for how the rest of my life was going to go: I would marry someone in the church, I would wrestle my children into church clothes every Sunday morning, I would be a fun young women’s leader or activity day’s coordinator, I would live in a little suburban neighborhood, and I would repeat the mantra that I clung to as a missionary: first I obey, then I understand (which I learned here).

I’m not saying any of those things above are BAD THINGS. In fact, I truly honestly really think those things are GOOD THINGS. I love that the church gives opportunities for lay members to serve, I enjoyed church activites as a youth, and I think it’s heartwarming to see families devoted to their community, even when it gets hard.

What happened to me, though, was an inability to imagine a different kind of life for myself. Even things that were in no way “breaking commandments,” but were out of the norm, felt uncomfortable for me. I never really thought beyond that cookie-cutter world as being an actual possibility for my life. It seemed like I could do some things, have some fun, but in the end, I knew how my life was going to go. The set of life was perfectly placed, ready to go, and I just had to step into it. Perhaps it was due to some scrupulosity, but I was afraid to make any sort of decision — mundane as it was — that would potentially alter or compromise that dollhouse life I was destined for.

After my mission, I was so tasked with finding a husband that it felt disobedient or rebellious to apply for a two-month study abroad (which I am so glad I did!). It was scary to date people who didn’t seem as devoted as I was to my destined life. I met someone in college who got an amazing job offer in Australia but turned it down and decided to stay in Provo, Utah because he didn’t think he’d “find his wife” in Australia. I remember thinking, Does he know that Australia has Mormon women too?

When you’re taught from birth that getting a second piercing is in direct defiance to God’s will, or that drinking tea will affect your ability to be with your family in heaven, it’s no wonder there feels to be a heaviness around decision-making.

Of course, some people in the church do not feel this confinement or paralysis. My husband, for example (when I first started deconstructing, he would often say, “You THOUGHT about that?!”). But for me, a person whose identity was enmeshed with the Church — whose ancestors walked miles barefoot through the snow in the name of practicing this religion — whose distant uncle was the infamous Brigham Young — whose family dinners were often used as an opportunity to bear testimony — I felt a lot of fear around rocking the boat in any kind of way, and jeopordizing my salvation.

My fear to “eat a peach” was very real.

The way that I have mitigated that fear? I have learned to brace myself, and simply take a bite. Most of the time it is incredibly underwhelming. I got a second piercing and the world didn’t end. I took “breaks” from wearing garments just to see what it was like, and I remember being surprised at how much more connected I felt to my body, and how soft sweaters felt against my skin. I tried coffee and was still able to feel the Spirit. I watched an R-rated movie and still have a healthy marriage. Wearing a tank top in public is still hard for me, but it was easier when I lived in Austin and realized that nobody actually cared.

Despite what you might think, I still follow the commandments! I love my neighbor, I love God, I am honest, I don’t murder people, I try not to envy, I participate in the Sabbath, I don’t have extramarital affairs, and I honor my parents. I take Jesus’ word when He detailed the two great commandments in the New Testament. I take Jesus’ word when He taught that who you become is more important than rituals you perform.

Contrary to what the Church teaches, what the world offers is not more fun, the church makes normal things more hard.

When I took nibbles of these existentially-weighted peaches, often times it was disappointingly anticlimactic. Other times I learned new things and adjusted as necessary.

One theme that is prevalent in The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock is time. Whether we stand there paralyzed with a peach all our lives or not… time will still go on. For me, that is motivation enough to begin slowly inching my direction towards my imagined future.

After years of feeling destined to a dollhouse life, I am proud that I have finally dared to eat a peach, and that I have dared to disturb the universe in my own little way.

Today’s spiritual seed is focused on Daring. For paid subscribers today, I have come up with reflection questions and a prompt that will help you take some risks and begin expanding your spiritual life.

Often, I find that “deconstruction” content seems to stop at deconstruction. But I really believe it is possible to still cultivate an abundant spiritual life as a personal pursuit, not necessarily tied to religion. We are learning together! I am soo so so so grateful for my paid subscribers and their willingness to expand their spirituality and support my writing. <3

If you’d like to become a paid subscriber, my subscriptions are $5/mo. I send out two paid posts a month. If you don’t have the means to become a paid subscriber but would still like access, please do not hesitate to email me at kimberpoon@gmail.com and I will gift you a subscrption, no questions asked. My main purpose of having paid subscriptions is to create a safe space to deconstruct/reconstruct, so your intention is what matters most to me <3

Here we go…