Daily writing prompt
Do you practice religion?
Not my usual early morning post, but here I am, not quite sure what is going to come out as an answer. If I really answered, it would be a lot more than anyone could bear to read, as this is a vast and intricate topic with which I've had many distinct relationships.
What can I write about, without contrasting a million angles?
The mosaic hasn't revealed its full pattern, and until and unless it does, each part may appear contradictory and disjointed anyway. It's a lifelong, and indeed possibly multiple lives long, ongoing and unfolding, dance and conversation.
But I'll give it a shot. 🙂 Forgive me if you've already heard some of this before. 🙂
Part One - Abridged history
Partly raised by and adoring of my very religious great-grandmother, religion was a huge part of my upbringing. I vividly remember my first direct so-called religious experience, which occurred as she was teaching me This Little Light of Mine.
🎶 This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine...
I thought "What little light?"
Then I thought "Oh, that one."
It was very subtle. I just became aware.
And as a child would, I then naturally associated that first awareness
of inner light with the Christian faith she embodied.
Meme died when I was six, which was my first experience of abandonment. It wasn't the first time I was abandoned (that would be my father), but the first time I felt abandoned. I don't remember my faith wobbling exactly, but I was certainly unmoored. No one stepped into, nor could step into, her place. I prayed for her not to go, and that didn't matter.
My mother continued to take me to church, in a drop-off way, which continued to be a safe place for many years, into Jr. High School, when I would walk from school to church a few times a week and stay until the evenings: bells, puppets, choir, construction projects. Youth Group was a huge part of my life, but I don't remember connecting it, almost at all, with religion, strangely.
Then, it seemed like everything went wacky at once, both in my home and church. Scandals everywhere! I began to feel I didn't have access to some circles, and as things got crazier and crazier at home, further realized we weren't a 'good family'. I don't remember a single chruch person caring nor trying to talk to me about anything, though I felt the effects of their gossip.
I was very shy and very self-conscious, so humiliation was hard to bear, and eventually turned itself into what I think now was entirely appropriate rebellion.
Which spilled into my school life as well, but at least there they understood why "a nice kid was suddenly behaving so badly."
Church became irrelevant, but it wasn't like I was questioning faith in general, certainly not the whole shebang. That would come later.
Part 2 - Still Abridged
My young rebellion transitioned into working a great deal, fleeing to Colorado and back, then one night in my bedroom having a second direct and intense religious experience it would be very hard to describe. It was another experience with light, this time with such a strong sensibility of glow from within that I wandered the house hoping to run into someone, sure they would see it too.
This may have been a hallucinogenic flashback, but was quite similar to that first experience as a young child, so I don't think so. Maybe it was a blend, a sort of amplification. 🙂
I began attending churches of all kinds, looking for one that believed in such things. I felt like my great-grandmother had intervened in my life, bringing me onto a better track.
[Long edited out section of my experiences with
churches as a young person]
Though I was very involved and trying to stay on track for a long time, eventually I couldn't ignore the tug of war going on inside; I kept running into things that sparked my rebellious side, and just wasn't buying into what they were selling. I really wanted to. I was good at rehearsing all the things I was supposed to say. I realize now I was learning to trust myself more, growing out of indoctrination while still having a strong connection to the source I once believed had brought me there!
It was a confusing time.
I had a dream. I was walking down a very busy well-known street here in Miami, with a fully robed Jesus. We were walking along together and there were some people off to the side. I began to walk over to them because of course that's what Jesus would want me to do, right? But he kept walking. I was standing in front of them but then looking at him walking away. He was then looking back, indicating for me to catch up.
This really played with my mind. But the dream was showing me they (the church and Jesus) weren't the same thing, you know?
Then, my church handed out a "Who to vote for" pamphlet, and invited the Left Behind guy to speak.
I was out.
I tried with all my might to hold on to my simple early faith, but the ball just unraveled faster and faster. I once again turned to working a lot and going out to clubs, dating like a normal young adult, enrolled back in classes I'd dropped.
Although I couldn't keep from outgrowing my belief in a formula/name for the bright awareness, I remained afraid that if I let myself be totally honest, it would go away. What if I offend the Holy Spirit? I think that's why I stayed in an in-between place quite a while, however with much expanded reading parameters and intellectual exploration.
The next big leap was getting married, and all that came with that. Still not getting through my head that the choice wasn't between faith or no faith (didn't have to be so drastic), and not even yet considering other traditions out there as perhaps offering insight, I gave Christian church another go.
[Another edited-out long story about Catholicism and ex's family
and a visit with a priest]
I remember beginning to feel a cosmic joke sensibility about the whole thing after a while. Why am I doing this? Why am I trying so hard? Should it be so hard?
I then had one more religious experience. This one was more like an earthquake that shook away fear, but excavated abandonment. I won't write about it here, but it was an experience of timeless, absolute love.
Part Three - So how the heck did you end up Buddhist?
I couldn't un-know what that experience showed me, even if I couldn't talk about it with others. It became a strong guiding force.
That love is all there is,
is all we know of love...
-Emily Dickinson
And now sadly, this is going to be like one of those TikTok videos where the person leads you down a long path only to say you should click follow so you don't miss the next video. If there is one, I promise to keep it much shorter, and today will at least give you an actual answer for your trouble. I'm just too tired. I should even go over and edit this down further but it's all too squiggly just now. 🙂
So the answer is Yes.
I consider myself Buddhist since those are the actual tangible ritual practices I am drawn to and delight in. If I was made to choose one discipline, I'd likely choose Tibetan Buddhism specifically, as it's imaginative and potent in its effects on my mind and the outflow of the way I want to actually live.
But really, I explore freely and find value all over the place.
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