Epiphanies

I have to admit right off the bat - I'm kinda uneasy writing this post.

It's about God. There, I've alienated some people right there.

It's about my anti-religious ideas. Okay, alienated some more there.

I'm gay. I'm a liberal Democrat. I live in Seattle. I'm not supposed to have anything to say about God.

(Is there anyone else I can alienate?)

But I started thinking (uh-oh) the other day. After my Dad died last year, I've tried to keep in touch with my cousins. We were never close growing up, but with both parents gone, I wanted to hold onto whatever family I had left (and, they're pretty darn nifty people). Plus, my uncle pretty much demanded - to me, specifically - that we stay in touch. 'Nuf said.

My cousin JoEllen (Jo) and I have kept in touch the most, I think. In an act of bravery, I quite recently offered her the link to this blog. And in a "You showed me yours, I'll show you mine" moment (her words! I know you'll read this, Jo!), she sent me the link to her blog.

Jo is a very faithful Catholic, which plays a huge role in her life and in her blog. It is her comfort, and more than that, her path and direction in life. This, as those who know me a little may guess, is quite different from my life. However, I truly honor and admire her faith and her path, whether it is the same as mine or not. She's a wonderful, warm, quick-to-laugh woman, as evidenced by our talks after Dad's funeral. And - after we got back in touch with each other, Jo pretty much guessed (like everyone else in my family, I bet) that I am gay. And she has never once been anything but kind and supportive of me since then, which admittedly surprised me (not due to her personality by any means), but is quite a nice treat coming from my background.

I sent her an e-mail after reading her blog, trying to explain my ideas about God, but I'm sure I fell short and her eyes glazed over before rolling back in her head. It got me thinking about what I do believe rather than just what I don't, which is the way I regarded my spirituality for so long. So, I know this is a long read, but it's my blog and I'm writing for my own outlet. Deal, kids. Read it or not.



I didn't grow up in a church-going family. We were taught the stories of the bible and to believe in God, but I only remember ever going to church once, for an Easter sunrise service. I didn't question it; I knew other people went to church, I knew people of different religions, I knew others who didn't go to church, it didn't seem to be a big deal. I don't recall ever questioning it at all until high school, when some people would look at me funny when I answered their questions of "Where do you go to church?" with "I don't". I wondered if I was missing something.

My Mom died of cancer just after my 15th birthday. Since we didn't have a pastor to officiate, we asked the hospital chaplain to perform the funeral. I remember being a little embarrassed that someone who barely knew my Mom was up in front of us, talking about her life (yes, this was repeated when my Dad died, with the pastor who had been with my Dad at the nursing home and at my family's home when he passed away officiating - and pronouncing our last name incorrectly). I wondered if we were bad people because of it. So shortly after that, I started attending church youth group meetings that a friend of mine invited me to at a United Church of Christ. I started getting involved in the church and going to services most Sundays. I went on retreats with the youth group. There were "spiritual bonding" sessions, "strength bombardment" sessions ... I don't remember what else. It was what I felt I needed at the time ... but it also felt hollow to me. Like I wasn't doing it right.

I went to a Swedish Lutheran college that had originally been a seminary (back in the 1800's) but was now a private liberal arts school. We were required to take religion courses, but just as part of the well-rounded liberal arts education. My first day in my first religion class, "The History of the Old Testament", the teacher said "The bible is not the word of God. It was written by man to relate the stories and teachings as they interpreted them in their day and age".

*click*

I was astounded. This teacher was a Lutheran minister, and he was telling me that the bible wasn't true? That wasn't the complete gist of his teachings; he explained that the bible was a historical document and taught the values and moral lessons that we should still follow - but that we shouldn't regard everything in it as the end-all word of God that we had to follow to the letter. That was an epiphany for me. It took years to form that idea into my own beliefs, but it was truly a revelation.

While in college, I did go to weekly chapel services at times ... being a musician, I often played at them, or went with friends of deeper faith than mine, trying to capture what everyone else was getting from it. Still, like in high school, I always felt out of place. I felt like I was trying to find answers, peace, God I guess? But that nothing was connecting. Again, that feeling that I wasn't doing it right. Something was wrong with me, of course.

I'm sure a big piece of this was that I was struggling with the idea, the thought, the terrifying knowledge that I was gay. Looking back, I always knew. From my earliest memories, I knew I was different somehow, but it didn't scare me until after puberty, when I knew what it was. And reconciling that knowledge (although I hadn't fully admitted it, even to myself, and "come out" yet) with the teachings of most any church ... well, there's a brick wall to run myself into.

When I did come out in graduate school, it was slow; first to new friends (much easier without the past baggage, and being in one of the top music schools in the country - well, kids, let's just say that I was not alone in my gay fabulosity), then to old friends, never quite to my family (WAY too much baggage and terrible consequences to deal with). And I figured that since the church told me I was bad, and God was the church, that I was already going to hell and couldn't do anything about it since I coudn't change the fact that was gay. So I figured the whole idea of God couldn't be a part of my life.

Fast forward (yeah, you wish) a few years to me moving to Seattle. One day I was walking around my new neighborhood and came across a bookstore (I love books) and started browsing. Something caught my eye - a book called "Conversations With God" by Neale Donald Walsch. It looked interesting ... new-agey, but something that might make me think, if nothing else. So I bought it, and sat down outside to browse through it ...

*click*

That was another epiphany. This was what I believed. This was the God that hadn't been shown to me before. This was why I always felt so hollow trying to find peace and direction and comfort and God in a stained-glass pew-filled room in front of an altar. The basic idea in this book is that we are not just created by God, but that we are a part, quite literally, of God. God is inside of us. Our reason for being here is to experience God as fully as possible, and for God to experience us. Everything that exists is part of God. Evil is a part of God, because he created all possibilities, good and bad, love and fear, left and right, up and down - everything. When we truly have experienced being God, then we return to being a part of him. Evil is necessary to define good. Fear is necessary to define love. We are all on a different part of the journey, and God delights in the experience. Before man, he was all that was. And in order to define himself, he had to create something that, previously, was not. There had to be opposites to define each other. There cannot be good without bad. There is no love without there being fear. No left without right. There is no word, no sound, no sight, no idea, no image that is not a part of God. Evangelical preachers, devout Christians, drag queens, Muslim extremists, meth addicts, mentally ill homeless people, child abusers, soccer moms, Dubya - all a part of God's creation and no one else's. Satan, if you believe in him, also a part of God, somewhere on his path back to God. We are all on a journey, and we try to influence others and the world with our view from the part of the journey we are on, but it's still God. You may use a different terminology - Goddess, Karma, zod, can opener, anything - but I believe that we are all a part of something. We have to be.

Now, I am very aware that the criticism of this book that brought me such comfort is voluminous. That it is heresy, blasphemy, yadda yadda yadda. So, if that's your thinking - don't read it. Or rather, DO read it, but only if you can keep an open mind. If you're offended already by my post - well, it is what it is. It is me. I try to keep my mind open to others and hope they do to me as well.

Okay - I'm done. Blast away.

It will be interesting to see what other epiphanies are ahead for me. I'm hoping for one soon.

What were your epiphanies?

BLIZZARD OF 2006!!! (umm ... Seattle style ... )

Yes, another weather post ... you wouldn't guess that it's my brother who's the meteorologist ...

It rarely snows in Seattle - well, not right in the city. Maybe once or twice a winter we'll get a dusting of snow, sometimes a few inches, and then the city shuts down. Completely. Since I grew up in suburban Chicago, I thought this was silly - but since it doesn't snow very often, people just aren't used to city driving in snow and ice. Plus, it's a very hilly city, so it's almost impossible to get around, and the buses usually can't make it on the steep hills. When I worked downtown, I would have to walk the three miles to work (up a steep hill and then down some very steep hills) anytime it snowed even 2 inches. THAT was always fun ...

So we had a winter storm come through yesterday. We only got about a half-inch where I live, but some areas up north got up to 18 inches. The schools are all closed, a lot of bus routes aren't running (basically the only public transportation we have), a lot of people have taken the day off of work. It started here with a big hailstorm just before 5:00 - perfect timing to really screw up rush hour. Scott works in a suburb north of the city, which usually takes him 30 minutes - maybe 45 minutes if traffic's bad. It took him three and a half hours to get home last night. There were cars in ditches, people abandoning their cars on the side of the road, people pulling into parking lots and sleeping in their cars because traffic just wasn't moving. Today it's only about 25 degrees, so everything is frozen and icy. It took Scott an hour and a half to get back to work this morning. I'm glad I'm at home ...

Here are a few pictures I took:

From the front porch, waiting for Scott to get home ...

From the living room window this morning ...

Our back yard from the balcony ...

Kali getting her first taste of snow ...

I know, I know ... it doesn't look like much, but trust me - solid ice and hilly streets (and not a whole lot in the way of snow removal equipment here), and it's nasty. So, taking Lewis' advice, I may start pulling some of the Christmas decorations up from the basement today. God knows that on Christmas it will probably be raining and 55 degrees ...

To pay or not to pay ...

What exactly should one do to deserve reimbursement? Click on this link and let me know your thoughts.

http://www.courttv.com/people/bloomblog/112706_ctv.html

I won't share my thoughts just yet ...

A Christmas Gory

Okay, this really is my favorite ever Christmas movie (right up there with "It's a Wonderful Life" and "Miracle On 34th Street"). And I am seriously contemplating a trip to Cleveland to see the renovated house. And I definitely remember not being able to put my arms down in a snowsuit.

You think I'm kidding.

Anyway ... this video is great. I never realized that "A Christmas Story" was a horror film. Perfectly, every scene is actually from the movie. (You HAVE seen the movie, haven't you??????).

Enjoy.

P.S. Did anyone else notice that the crate says "His End Up"?

'Tis the Season

It's ironic that this season of "goodwill" and "peace on Earth" etc. etc. has become the most hectic, stressful, ill-mannered time of the year. Whether you celebrate or even acknowledge Christmas, you're still somehow sucked into the season in this country (and many others). So why does it need to be such a cranky and horrible time for many people? I certainly feel for Scott, and anyone else who works in retail or restaurants or in any way has to deal with the public masses, normally for extended hours and fewer days off during the holidays. People can get not just testy or grumpy, but downright evil and nasty - and they take it out on whomever is nearest to them (especially on an employee of wherever the hell they happen to be at the moment). That's just wrong. Not just as a Christian holiday, but as what is even a secular season of hope and peace and love (it's certainly secular to me), these people are the antithesis of the whole spirit and idea. There's probably a reason ... stressful family life, job stress, financial stress, all with the pressures of a disgustingly commercialized season weighing on them and being pounded into them by the advertisements and decorations being thrust on them starting in - what, September these days?? That's why I love Thanksgiving more than Christmas; to me it's all about love and family and friends and reminding yourself and each other of what is important and what to be thankful for, not about standing in line at 4 a.m. to get into some big box store and trample and shove perfect strangers to get your hands on that specially-priced DVD player because your Christmas gift-giving will be destroyed if you can't get it. Bah humbug, indeed.

So I've decided - after years of thinking about it - that I'll be damned if I'm gonna let it all get me down. (How Charlie Brown of me). I don't want tons of gifts this year. I don't want anyone scrambling to find something that I might like (jeez, I'm actually very easy to shop for!!!), getting stressed because I'm not crossed off their list and there's no time and no money and what the hell am I supposed to do now? I want to spend time with people whom I love and don't get to see often enough. Not with fancy overdone dinners (well, maybe just one), or Christmas parties ... no gift exchanges or forced merriment while wearing reindeer sweaters ... no adding stress to anyone. Make a few quesadillas or a pizza or some burgers, pour some wine, sit around in grubby clothes and talk and watch movies and enjoy each other. Remind each other why we love them, why we're friends.

I came across this link on Lewis' blog - and what a great idea. Use this season to do what it's really about. Take care of each other. Be kinder to each other. Bring peace to someone, make someone smile. Recognize that you can do something, in some small way, that will make someone's day. It doesn't have to be expensive; it doesn't actually have to cost you anything at all. Offer to take someone's shopping cart back to the rack in the parking lot. Help a mother with a stroller onto the bus. Let someone into your lane on the freeway even if you have the right of way. Give a smile to everyone. Anything.

Scott and I live across the street from two ladies that have lived there for over thirty years. They're in their 80's, fairly poor, but the sweetest and most interesting people around. Every year we bring them something for the holidays - usually a Christmas wreath, since we know they don't spend their money on things like that. This year we brought them a big pointsettia plant just before Thanksgiving; it really didn't cost us much, and we told them we saw it and thought of them and how they might like a little holiday cheer. They always get a little teary-eyed when we do this, and thank us and tell us how sweet we are and how good we are to them. It wasn't a difficult or expensive thing for us to do, but they appreciate it, and we felt good making them feel good and knowing they have something cheery for the season.

Thanks to Lewis and Mr. Joe Blog's Blog for a great idea. I can't think of a better way to make my holidays better than by helping others do the same. And let me know any random act of kindness you give. That, too, is sharing the holiday spirit.