My background is that of a white farm-boy from a quiet valley in the middle of British Columbia, Canada. In my life I have moved in and out of the garden of Faith, and struggled with virtually every aspect of myself. I was raised in a Baha'i family and taught about love and spiritual growth, in a world of mysteries, illusions and distractions.

Baha'is believe in the unity of mankind, of God and of religion. According to the teachings of Baha'u'llah (1817-1892), the Holy Spirit has appeared to humanity at different places and times as a 'progressive' revelation whose objective is and always has been the 'spiritualization' of humanity.  Baha'u'llah claimed to be the messenger of God for today, and he re-iterated that God is essentially unknowable, except through the appearances and influences of His messengers. Baha'u'llah taught the equality of the races and sexes, the harmony of science and religion, the need for universal education and a democratic World Order built on spiritual principles - all of this before most of the sociological and scientific miracles of the modern age.

My mother and father met as new Bahai's. They had both come into the religion through independent pursuits of the meaning of life. Both were fundamentally good people, unselfish and rooted in integrity, and each had suffered difficulties and personal loss. I might even say that they were two of the most genuine and good-natured people you could meet. My parents built a life together, practiced faith at home and in their communities, and had two children - myself and my sister Laura. They soon endured more shock and tragedy with the death of my two half-brothers, from my mother's first marriage, the death of my father's younger brother who was living with us at the time, and the passing of three of my grand parents (whom I never knew, incidentally). Undoubtedly my parents' faith saw them through those hard times.

Aside from the tragedies, I was raised around many people -virtuous, loving, polite people who spoke in warm voices, and who showed deep passions for life and living. I grew up with prayers and songs and classical music, hippies, and "Indians", cowboys and Iranians. My family even moved to Germany for a two-and-a-half-year missionary excursion. I learned many elegant words, like "countenance" and "beneficent" even before my actual schooling, from the Baha'i songs and prayers taught to me as a child!

When I was 12, my mother became ill and died from a rare blood condition, thought at first to be related to her diabetes. Her death was an enormous shock and loss. I froze in silent grief as I found myself in a large boisterous stepfamily only weeks after her passing, and then as the family, somewhat splintered, moved to opposite hemispheres of the world. Throughout my slow and complicated adolescence, religion remained a sturdy reference-point, and my family was remarkably strengthened by it. I always felt a security in my idea of God, and some kind of understanding of the purpose of life. I knew where my mother was and that she was happy beyond description, now in the realm of her Beloved. By the time I was in high school, despite increasing anxiety to escape from my family, I mostly felt quite normal. All my life I believed that people were generally good and kind and that adults were all mature and highly functional. There was no question that I, and people around me, would live well and passionately and pursue a broadening of expression and experience, and an expanding capacity as human beings, as children of God. Around this time I discovered rock and roll.

Pop-rock, folk-rock, glam-rock, rock-opera. I began to find my voice, literally and figuratively. I also had the beginnings of intimate relationships with others, where music was shared, philosophy and spirituality were explored, intoxicants were discovered and experimented with, and my sexuality was slowly realized and defined. Much of this was a departure from 'the straight and narrow' I'd known (Baha'is condemn the use of drugs and alcohol and teach clear boundaries around sexual expression i.e.: like in the strict context of a marriage between a man and a woman!). But I was following my bliss, my friendships and the allure of feeling accepted and admired by others. Pretty normal things, really.

In my twenties, my religious interest resurfaced and peaked. I was "on fire" with activity, youth proclamation projects, traveling overseas, making music, making friends, spreading Baha'u'llah's message.. and perhaps fulfilling my heritage all too neatly. But I also had what seemed like a perfect disguise, if not remedy, for my emerging homosexuality as well as my private confusion and long-unprocessed grief. It worked for a while but soon the "fire" burned out. Eventually one inner landscape displaced much of the other. I slowly fell away from my spiritual community and a lot of my friends, as my interests and beliefs started to diverge from where I'd been "hiding out". I couldn't escape my feelings of abandonment - from years earlier, and now the loneliness growing inside me. I felt I had to turn away from the God I knew, in order to live a life I couldn't conceal anymore - of exploring my hopes and desires for human (and sexual) love in my life.

The years have passed. I've had many rich experiences in life and a few in love, all of which have been informed in some way by my earlier association with religion. My understanding of Spirit and Divinity affecting flesh has gradually evolved and changed. I no longer believe that you have to take out a membership card of some kind, or agonizingly dedicate your entirely-wicked self to some Godhead for healing and cleansing and everlasting absolution. I think that Christ's, Buddha's, Moses', Mohammad's and Baha'u'llah's examples, teachings and influences enter our world and permeate all life. Some Baha'i writings imply that this recurring and eternal 'Word' of God actually affects and transforms molecules (but of course it does!). We as humans, simply have to use our faculties of reason and sensibility and make choices that either enhance or restrict our spiritual development. Most of it is pretty small and private -the quiet conscience, but the possible effects of enlightenment, regardless of where and how it appears, can alter even the universe!  Hey - I'm up for that!

So I live with faith, perhaps even despite myself. Faith that somehow my experience with God has been true, that He is beyond our knowing, and that He is the All-Forgiving and All-Loving. For me, striving to live and to love, to be creative and good and kind, and aware, has to be enough. I hope and pray that my love of life and my love of love, does perpetually infuse me with a divine Light. My religious upbringing has allowed me to confront obstacles with a spirit of optimism and forbearance - through possibly-chronic depression, failures, and fear and cynicism about the chaotic world I live in. Something has literally saved me from the darkest of self-doubt that often characterizes the lives of gays and lesbians or anyone who has experienced being marginalized by family and/or society. We are people who might see the world in more profuse shades of gray than simply black and white. With faith, even when I feel entirely wretched and confounded by life or by love, I know there is a light that I can draw strength from. And yes, I know that others suffer horrendously in our world, this "veil of tears" - but behind which, I believe there is mercy and clarity. There is the beauty and wonder of life and nature itself - if the heart is open to seeing it.