Articles - Lifestyle and Philosophy
I'm a Believer
Beliefs. Aren’t they just the thing. What would be do without them? There was a time when I believed lots of things I don’t believe now, yet they were just as real to me as the un-beliefs are today. I used to believe that I would go to Hell if I didn’t behave and think in certain ways. Now I believe that that belief was all the Hell there was.
When I was 15, I lost my virginity to a boy I married three years later. It was in the back of his mother’s 1947 Buick, parked in her garage. Hormones, can’t live with them, can’t live without them. At 15, hormones run amok.
After that, even though I had metaphysical beliefs, I wasn’t completely convinced that there wasn’t some horrible fate awaiting me after I died because I had sex with my boyfriend, so I married him. BIG mistake! He was a temperamental child with no ambition, little education, and completely at opposite ends of my spiritual path. Three years later, I had finished the Rosicrucian Philosophy course, and read Autobiography of a Yogi.
Totally convinced that I would not go to any horrible place after death, I told him I was going to visit my mother in Southern California. I packed everything I could, hopped on a plane and called him after I arrived, “I’m not coming back.” Well, he moaned, and bemoaned,had his mother call me, his grandmother call me, sent me jewelry, and such–bribes. Nothing could make me come back. I was FREE! I believed that I was free.
Taking a job as a waitress while going to college, life was pretty good for a while. I partied like a rock star, and pretty much had a good time. Then one day, I had a belief rear its ugly head in my mind. OMG! If I continue like this, I will end up like the cartoon on my cocktail napkin of a floozy woman with too much makeup, a cigarette hanging from her loose and too red lips, bags, sags, and crags, living on sour pickles and Vodka. NOOOOOO!
A woman I like and have a lot of respect for, P, who comes to a lot of my seminars, trainings, and such has always stood out as exceptional. She is educated, a serious spiritual seeker, and seems to always get it. Although, I’m sure, like all of us, there are emotional blinders, challenges, and obstacles in her way, she seems to be able to put aside enough in order to take an objective (as objective as anyone can be) look at what needs to be done to progress, change, and grow.
As she discussed in her comment, we have some things in common, and a lot different in our lives. She has had a stable life, put down roots, had a life with continuity. She has learned that she can count on things not to be in upheaval. She exudes an air of quiet confidence. She is one of those people, I have labeled, “comfortable in her body.” I like that in a person.
My life, on the other hand has been one drastic change after another. Moving constantly during childhood. Mother definitely out of step with the rest of the world, taught me OUIJA, Tarot, and Spirit communication as early as five years old. She didn’t have many close friends because she was so different from them. That’s been me too, about the close friends thing.
My father was an alcoholic, moved from one job to the other. He was a brake mechanic for those monster trucks that I’m always sure are going to crush me on the highway. Now my dad wasn’t an angry drunk. He was never physically abusive. He was the party animal, happy and jolly when drinking. When sober, he was somber, and perhaps depressed, although no one labelled it that way in the 50′s. He was verbally abusive because he hated my mother, and I was just like her. Took a lot of years of NLP to work that one through.
My younger brother caught the genetic alcoholism that afflicts all of the men in my family. He died at age 25 of acute liver disease and an overdose of drugs. We never liked him anyway. We were glad when he died. Sounds awful? Well, not when you believe in the afterlife and reincarnation. I think he exited this loser of a life so that he could rethink what he had done and learn to do it better the next time. In the meantime, our lives were no longer made miserable because of him. I saw and spoke to him a lot for a few years after he died. He was contrite and made me understand more about how the human mind/brain can be in opposition to the spirit mind. He’s not so bad as a spirit. Now, he’s gone on. I don’t contact him anymore.
Maybe it's Chronos' Fault
I don’t know. Maybe I’m just getting old but lately I care less and less what other’s think of me or that people agree with my world view. What brought this about on this beautiful morning before the scorching wave of BTU? I guess it was Facebook. Someone shared an interview with Rick Warren, staunch Christian. It was all, God is good and I give my life over to God because I know that because I am a Christian and will go to heaven, stuff.
Nice sentiments, and I will admit that it is a better message than “we are all sinners and the devil is about to devour us for eating that cream puff” crap, but still, it rankled. Maybe it’s Chronos, the god of time, saying, “Be true to yourself, whoever that might be at the time.” For those of you who attended public schools after they dropped Greco Roman mythology, Chronos is the god of time. In the myth, he and his consort Ananke, in the form of serpents circled the primal world egg and split it apart to form the Earth.
So, Chronos is now denigrated to being Father Time at New Years eve parties. Sigh. Anyway back to rankled. Part of me says, let it go. I completely believe people are entitled to their own beliefs and opinions. Part of me is groaning that this sort of religious malarky still hold so much power over people. There was a time when I would have not commented, or been more tactful. But nooo, I dove right in as said just what I thought about religion. Not so tactful or complimentary.
Maybe it’s because of my unique spiritual path that I never had to go through the religious trap (feel free to substitute a ‘c’ for the ‘t’ if you want). Even when going to church as a child, I never really bought into the whole sin and damnation thing. Well maybe partly. That’s why I finally got baptized at the age of 14. I thought, what if they are right? What if baptism IS necessary? I’d better hedge my bets and get sprinkled.
So I went to Dean Gilmet at the St. Paul’s Episcopal Church where my choir boy boyfriend and I used to sneak in after hours and do what was then called, make out, to keep the hormones blazing through our young hot bodies. Ahhh, Donald, you were a good kisser! Hmmm. Wha? Oh, yeah, baptism. He agreed to baptize me into the Episcopal faith. I was sprinkled in a pompous ceremony surrounded by my sinful friends who had just come from toking up behind the rectory. I’m not so sure that old Dean Gilmet didn’t have his moments of bliss with the weed too.
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