A Personal History of Religion - An Essay

Religion is something that I have struggled with for as long as I can remember. When getting baptized around age 9 or 10 I remember hoping and praying that I’d finally get that "filled with God's love" feeling or secret or whatever it was that everyone around me seemed to have. As Reverend Shearer dunked me in the water, I hoped that it would all wash over me like a perfect white light. After all the baptisms (there was about 5 of us) I just remember observing everyone else having this look of pride and satisfaction on their faces. I'm sure I had that look too, but what I remember thinking was "Ok, I'm wet. When does the rest kick in?"

I went to Baptist camp for a week almost every year growing up. It was way back in the WV mountains (Cowan, WV) in some really beautiful country. I loved the alone time I had every day, the beauty of my surroundings, and the fact that my mom and grandmother attended the camp in their youth. Every year towards the end of the week, there would be a big passion play of some kind put on by the counselors and campers would have the opportunity to be born again. I probably went forward about 3 times total over the years hoping that it would help me to connect with my christianity and with God. But honestly, every single time I went up, I felt like a poser. I already knew what I felt in my heart but I was scared about what that meant for my eternal soul. I kept going up just in case God was real, then he would know I was atleast trying. But if it had no meaning to me (other than to cover my ass), how can it have had any real meaning to God?

I remember numerous occasions my freshman year of college getting dressed to go to a nearby church because I felt like I should, like it would be good for me. And then I’d go down stairs and outside and get paralyzed on the front stoop of my dorm. I couldn't do it. I didn't want to go and I felt tremendous guilt about it. I was also so afraid it would be the wrong church, or that i'd be judged or worse, not welcome. I'd heard from other friends that they had tried a few local churches. They would walk in and receive looks of unwelcomeness or not be acknowledge after the service on the way out the door during the typical post-church handshaking. you know, like "oh great, more flakey college students." Thats just not the world I'm from and it scared me to go there. So I never did. A few years later a friend and I looked in to the Hindu faith (thanks to some lovely bald visitors to our camps who were handing out literature) and read a bit of the Bhagavd Gita. Hey, it was good enough for George Harrison, right? Krishna was interesting, as most eastern religions are, but eventually I lost interest. I had a great roomate in college and she is a Mormon. I will always appreciate the experience I had with her because she never tried to indoctrinate me, we had great philosophical/religious discussions and she never, ever judged me for my choices (some of which were not so great). She taught me that you can have a conversation with someone with a completely different idea of what is right and come out respecting one another.

After visiting the desert for the first time, seeing the Grand Canyon and the beauty of Utah, and having an OBE (see: Out of Body Experience...no, really) around that same time, I was moved to explore the Buddhist philosophy. I read some really lovely books by Thich Naht Han. I struggled to read the Dalai Lama's books, but I tried. I meditated. The ritual of it all was very cleansing. I also loved that it was about loving yourself absolutely. About finding beauty in simple things and being conscious of everything single thing you do. It had nothing to do with indoctrinating, or making judgements or going to hell or putting all of my hopes and dreams and "faith" in something that deep down I knew wasn't there. It had every thing to do with working on yourself with absolute humility. We are all mothers. We are all children. The middle way is a beautiful way of thinking.

To further my religious experience, I just happend to marry a Jew. I have learned a great deal about Judiasm and I have a great love and respect for it. The ritual of Judiasm isn't as exotic as I once imagined. Infact, its fairly similar (at least in the reformed temples i've been to) to a church service. There's some music (usually in a minor key...they are a sad people), some call and response and some prayer (usually with a little Hebrew here and there). I have on occasion pondered the idea of converting officially to Judiasm but there is something that stops me: I'm not a Jew. I don't have that perspective on the world. Its a religion/culture that really, you have to be born into to truly understand. My daughter will have the very special experience of growing up Jewish. I’m reading a book at the moment called “Jewish, with Feeling.” I’m trying to gain a better understanding of Judiasm from a spiritual perspective so that when Lilly starts asking about God, that I’ll have a leg to stand on. I could always send her off with her questions to her father, but I want to participate in the conversation as well. Hopefully, when the time comes, she'll embrace it. And if she doesn't then I'll at least be able to share with her the things that I have learned on my soul journey.

It wasn't until recently that I came to the conclusion that its ok for me to explore other religions and not come to any single conclusion. Just like reading this essay might be hard for someone who believes that there is only one way or one truth, it was always hard for me not to believe that there are many ways to spiritual. I feel like I have finally unbound myself from the chains of religious dogma. Hey Christianity, its not you, its me.

We went to temple with a friend of ours one Friday night for shabbat services a year or two ago and when we got there we heard that the Rabbi's wife had died very suddenly that day after a bout of the flu. She was young, mid 40's I believe, so it was very tragic. It was a somber affair but I remember the president of the temple speaking briefly after the service and he mentioned a common Jewish belief that what happens in the hereafter being a bit of a "crap shoot." Thats pretty much how I feel about it. No matter how much we pray, or read, or believe, we really don't know what comes next. But I can sure live on the hope that we might get to spend eternity with the people that we loved here on earth, whether in this life or in a previous one. And we can all continue to learn from and love one another right now.

God Bless, Shalom, Namaste, Hare-Hare...Be well.

Miscellaneous Post

Life with Bebe: Its almost been one whole year since Petit Bebe came into the world. Life is so different. My brain is different. The relationship between myself and my spouse is different. The relationship I have with myself is different. I've fallen from the top of the heap when it comes to "most important" or "favorite" and Petit Bebe has taken my place. I'm good with it. That's what is supposed to happen. And besides, she's the best thing to happen since Dairy Queen (because who gives a shit about sliced bread).

Magic: My dad once said (regarding my inability to believe in the Christian God) that once I had a baby that I'd change my mind or "see the light." Well dad, nothing like that has happened. But I have found that I do believe that magic exists in the world and that harnessing or weilding that magic is a special gift. And that I see magic when I look in Petit Bebe's perfect, blue, twinkling eyes.

Birthday: I have been on this earth for almost 30 years. Turning 30 is an event that should be celebrated and I plan on celebrating big this year. I've been a real good girl for most of those 30 years, but for this party I plan on being a little more on the bad side. Its hard for me to admit my desire to throw down because although I want it so badly, I have a baby now. But then again, maybe that makes me more entitled.

Purpose: After so many years of searching, I've found that one can indeed have a true calling. That actually does happen. Whats funny is that it was right under my nose for ever. I just couldn't grasp it without a special experience to draw me closer to it. But I'm working towards it now and that's all that matters.

Work & School: Not only did I survive my first ever Chemistry class but I was able to move out of a miserable employment situation. I had a job that I liked but a boss that made me (and the people around me) angry, sad, disenchanted and confused. I was able find another position. And although I'm bored at times and I miss my old co-workers dreadfully, I'm happy and content.

Heaven.

It’s really hard to believe that it’s mid September already and that fall is upon us. The mornings and evenings are cool. Before long I’ll need to start bundling Petit Bebe up for our evening stroll.

Please bear in mind, I realize how ridiculous this is about to be: This is the time of year that I start fantasizing about how lovely and cozy it would be to live on a little farm. Canning and storing the goodies grown all summer in the garden. Milking the cows and goats for milk and cheese making. Gathering up fresh eggs. All the while Petit Bebe is papoosed to my back giggling at all of the fun we are having together. Snuggling up in front of the fire place with my man, a book and a blanket. I think it would be the most blissful existence. Its my idea of heaven.

And then I snap out of it and realize that I don’t think I could live that far outside of town. I’d miss things. I’d miss people…I think.

Napalm

I'd be pissed right now but I have a beer in me. When we got home this evening, we quickly realized that we were unsuccessful in our bug extermination. How fucking annoying is that?
Let me tell you how annoying: Back at the mother fucking Red Roof Inn annoying. Luckily, baby is clean, full and sound asleep in the pack and play. She's not really been phased by this whole deal and I have to credit Derek and myself for keeping our cool most of the time.

Derek is back at the house setting off bombs right now. This time we are going hard core by placing 1-2 in each room and letting them work over night. I'll be at the house all day tomorrow doing the toxic clean up. Its going to suck. I also need to find someone to come and take care of the yard: cut the grass, trim everything up really good and then I'll treat it with chemicals to kill the remaining little mother fuckers. Welcome to my hell, I'm embracing it.

Back to paranoia, Family Guy and Pumpkin (spiced) beer.

Visiting and Unwanted Visitors

Ahhh, the wonders of a weekend in WV and coming home to houseguests. Let me tell you my tale. Warning: very long post ahead.

Trip to WV: So we drove to WV (uneventful, fun). We stopped at the Food Network famed Smokey Valley Truck Stop for some good home cookin’. We had the Friday Special: Meatloaf and Three “Vegetables”. It was great, just like Sunday dinner at Grandma’s house, cottage cheese and all. We had a wonderful time at home with my folks, the grandparents, aunts and uncles. It was a grand old time. I do love them and miss them all the time.

Which brings me to our first topic of discussion: To move home or not to move home. Whether or not to make the move home is something I’ve struggled with since I got married. Derek and I have always been able to talk ourselves out of it (so to speak) by playing all of the variables: Job market, really hard winters, lack of diversity, very small Jewish population, and just a general lack of stuff (you know, all the little stuff that people love), etc. But the one big draw is family. Its really hard to live far from family when you have a kid. It would make such a difference in our lives if we had them close. We could help them, they could help us. And my heart just gets sick every time we are home with this internal struggle. And I have to say that Derek has been really supportive and has indicated that if we could find jobs, he’d be ok with it. So there’s that. Then I go back to why I want to live in Raleigh, NC. I am a country girl who has grown to love the modern conveniences of living in a large city. I loved St. Louis, but it was just too far from my parents. Although I loved the lifestyle and the beauty of that old city, I couldn’t stand the distance.

The Raleigh area has everything you could want: tons of educational opportunities for my kids and my husband and I, an international airport, a lovely Jewish population, lots of stuff (shopping, restaurants, parks, things for kids to do), and money. You can tell when there’s money in a town and this town has it. But there’s that big gap for us: close family. Now, I do have two aunts there (and a cousin, but she don’t account for much these days), so that’s great. But its not the same as my folks or Derek’s.

This is definately a recurring theme on this blog. But for some reason the struggle gets harder and harder as the months/years go on. It weighs heavy on my mind. I just have to resolve to know that we’ll do what’s best for our family when the time comes and that time isn’t right now.

Which brings me to our next adventure: The Red Roof Inn. Ladies and gentlemen, its flea season and our house was infested. Let me start by giving you some background into my brain. When I was 12 we got nits from a friend of mine’s nasty ass pet. Nits are evil and cling (and lay eggs) onto the roots of your hair. So they are a real bitch to kill. I can tell you how many times my mom and dad rubbed chemicals into my scalp and ran a tiny comb though my long, thick, curly hair to try and rid our house of them (about 3 within about 18 months). They are hard to kill and I have huge paranoia about little bugs like that. You have to wash everything in your house: pillows, curtains, bedding, throw rugs, clothes, etc. So I’ve done this routine lots in my lifetime, but not recently and not in my new house. So, when we got home last night from a long afternoon on the road, we very quickly saw that they were in fact in our home and had multiplied while we were gone. We quickly resolved to fog the house with some flea bombs and get a hotel room. So I ran to the store, got the flea bombs and flea spray and ran back to the house. We loaded the car back up with our luggage and the baby. Once everyone was out I strategically set up the 6 foggers according to the plan my dad and I came up with. Then I set them off, starting up stairs and ending with the one by the garage door, locked up and off we went to the hotel.

We settled in, we took showers, ate, fed the baby and came to the conclusion that I should go back to the house to start the clean up. This is the bitch part: airing out the house, vacuuming the floors and couches, mopping, cleaning off surfaces, taking down curtains, piling laundry, piling laundry, piling laundry. When vacuuming, you have to spray flea killer in the canister and constantly empty it because they can escape. After vacuuming I went back and sprayed areas that are popular doggie hangouts and threw out all of their bedding, etc. I was there from about 8:00-10:00 doing all of the above. I got a good workout, that’s for sure. I’m tired and strung-out and am dreading this evening. I have a world of laundry ahead of me, let alone all of our dirty clothes from the trip. I still have surfaces to clean. I have no earthly idea where Lilly is going to hang out while I finish cleaning her room. I guess it’ll be the baby jail in some corner I sanitize for her. When you have a baby it’s a whole different ball of wax because you have to really be careful to clean up all the chemicals. I don’t want her breathing that stuff if we can help it, and her skin is so sensitive. But then again, I don’t want to get rid of too much because we want the stuff to keep working.

The Dogs: The dogs are still at the dog sitter and are getting dipped again tonight. Derek will be making a run to the vets for the hardcore flea prevention stuff that you put between their shoulder blades. And we need a new carpet for the living room. I need to make a list….and check the bank account. Hey, if it wasn’t this, it was bound to be something else, right?

Here’s hoping you are having a fabulous Tuesday. Three cheers for pumpkin beer!