Sinning in the hotel room
Posted: Thu Oct 25, 2012 1:30 am
I travel on business quite a bit and often think back on my TBM days on the road. As a TBM, I followed the philosophy similar to Ulysses and Nephi on the boat: restrain myself from the possibility of temptation.
One time, I was staying in a hotel with a colleague; our rooms across the hall from each other. I started watching MTV or VH1 (don't remember which). A rap music video started playing and I found myself drawn to it. The music was alluring, the dancers were erotic, and the men were rowdy. I sat in a pool of guilt, watching in awe. I knew in my heart the prophet would be shocked to see this video and my priesthoods were tarnishing by the second but I watched. I soaked it in with pale hunger.
A knock at the door interrupted my ravaging meditation. My colleague wished to ask me something. I scrambled for the tv remote and flipped to the History Channel. When I opened the door, his first question was, "What were you watching?"
"What do you mean?" My face was bright red.
"Did you just change the channel?"
"No..whaa?...No!"
He chuckles.
-silence-
"Whatever, bro. It sounded like rap to me."
I was caught and we both knew it. He also knew I was a good Mormon boy. I felt terrible.
Here I was, a priesthood holder in the latter days. I had more power than all the Presidents of the earth combined, for none of them had the power of God. Big power calls for big purity (piousness), right?
After that, when booking hotel rooms, I often considered asking the hotel staff if I could get a room without a tv. I needed my arms tied to the mast. I needed to write a Ulysses Pact in my heart.
Eroticism in media became a monster. It roared and stomped and stank. It consumed.
Since then, I untied my arms and trashed my garments. I freed myself from bondage. The monster left the building. I stopped worrying about the red eyes under the bed and the horned beast in the closet. The trouble walked out of the room, hand in hand with my superpowers.
I turned the lights on.
One time, I was staying in a hotel with a colleague; our rooms across the hall from each other. I started watching MTV or VH1 (don't remember which). A rap music video started playing and I found myself drawn to it. The music was alluring, the dancers were erotic, and the men were rowdy. I sat in a pool of guilt, watching in awe. I knew in my heart the prophet would be shocked to see this video and my priesthoods were tarnishing by the second but I watched. I soaked it in with pale hunger.
A knock at the door interrupted my ravaging meditation. My colleague wished to ask me something. I scrambled for the tv remote and flipped to the History Channel. When I opened the door, his first question was, "What were you watching?"
"What do you mean?" My face was bright red.
"Did you just change the channel?"
"No..whaa?...No!"
He chuckles.
-silence-
"Whatever, bro. It sounded like rap to me."
I was caught and we both knew it. He also knew I was a good Mormon boy. I felt terrible.
Here I was, a priesthood holder in the latter days. I had more power than all the Presidents of the earth combined, for none of them had the power of God. Big power calls for big purity (piousness), right?
After that, when booking hotel rooms, I often considered asking the hotel staff if I could get a room without a tv. I needed my arms tied to the mast. I needed to write a Ulysses Pact in my heart.
Eroticism in media became a monster. It roared and stomped and stank. It consumed.
Since then, I untied my arms and trashed my garments. I freed myself from bondage. The monster left the building. I stopped worrying about the red eyes under the bed and the horned beast in the closet. The trouble walked out of the room, hand in hand with my superpowers.
I turned the lights on.