It's been some time since I've felt compelled to write, even though I think about this blog almost every single day. Some times it takes something out of the everyday routine to prompt the urge, even the need to write.
As I'm sure most of you know by now, assuming you've been with me before - I've been on my path for a good while now, and if I'm being frank, half of my family is on what most folks would consider the other side of the fence.
As with most most holidays, my family wanted to spend Easter together, even if it was only a meal - which we had planned to do after they had attended a church service in the morning.
It was perhaps a week and a half prior to these plans when my mother called me. I knew from the moment she got on the phone that something was on her mind. Her tone was more than enough to tell me that whatever she was going to say was going to be difficult for her.
To my relief, it was not a family emergency, it was something considerably more simple.
She wanted me to go to church with them.
Now, my mother knows that I have a different belief system, one that she personally cannot condone or understand; mostly I think because she's already made up her mind about it.
Unlike me, I don't think she's ever doubted her faith or her beliefs, which I genuinely commend her for - so much of the pain and trails she's experienced, we experienced together.
The moment I heard her voice crack, I knew what she was going to ask me.
"I know that you have different beliefs, and we've never talked about them. But it really would me so much if you came to church."
"Oh Mom, it's okay."
"I don't want it to be like my parents where beliefs are pressured to the point where it causes problems, but-"
"Mom. I love you, and I respect you; and if it means that much to you, of course I'll go."
She pulled herself together after that, and I decided not to ask her the main question that was on my mind.
What exactly did she think that church was going to do for me? What about this Easter service was going to reach me in such a way that I could potentially, completely change my way of thinking?
In this particular instance, it only reaffirmed my stance, and strengthened my resolve.
In the midst of counting everything of pagan origin in an attempt to not fall asleep, something about the message for today got to me. As might be expected, the sermon was all about Jesus being resurrected and how it was good news for us all; because we'd finally be able to get into heaven.
While I will not go into every single piece that I disagreed with, there is one that I refuse to be silent about.
While his sermon was unorganized, poorly rehearsed, and over all lacking; this preacher had enough nerve to tell every person sitting in the audience, that they are broken.
This was by no means a small congregation - they were recording from a number of locations and streaming it live online. I don't want to make any grand assumptions about the tax free institution but I think it's fair to say he was quite ballsy in his accusation.
I don't know about anyone else, but the idea of telling a complete stranger that I've never even made eye contact with, that they are broke, unworthy, and really rather pointless without my perspective of what my higher power looks like, is nothing short of egotistical.
As I sat there in that auditorium, I was fuming. I no longer cared if my distaste and displeasure was obvious to anyone. In fact, I even hoped that he would look over and see how disgusted I felt. I hoped that from where I was in my seat, that he could feel the echos of what it really meant to be broken.
To feel that sense of helplessness, of emptiness; the feeling of complete and utter self loathing and failure that comes with being broken. I wanted more than anything for a single moment for him to experience the way the breath catches as one inches towards to edge of oblivion, and the terror of uncertainty even at the brink of making the unchangeable decision to finally release and let go, or to hang on with nothing but the bleeding chips that were once fingernails.
I physically craved for him to know this darkness. I felt my own ego crying out for him to choke on his words as he attempted to pick apart the idea of "different roads leading to the same end" and how by doing that it leaves each individual the ultimatum of deciding what 'good' really means.
At this point I'm sure I could go off on a tangent about balance between light and darkness, good and evil. I could string together pretty words about how the freedom to choose is in fact a blessing and a curse, and that there really is no such thing as 'not choosing' because when it comes to so much of life, there is always a choice.
If I'm being completely honest at this point, this has without a doubt been one of the most difficult articles for me to write. It's taken several attempts not just with trying to convey my ideas and feelings, but also several rounds of technical issues in which everything below the previous paragraph was lost.
More than once the time and effort felt wasted, in one instance I became enraged that for whatever reason there was nothing saved because I was so proud of the picture I had spun together reaching so far and deep within me to create and it was simply gone.
Easter was back in March, and even if this post was going to be a few weeks late, the subject matter was such that I felt it was justified with so much to process. As I am sitting here now reading back over everything, those emotions feel like an echo of someone who felt wronged by a stranger who will never know my name, never know my story; because to him they are all the same in the end.
And maybe for him that's true, and if so, then that's his prerogative. But in the end what it boiled down to me was that he has a very different idea of what love is, and means. From where I'm standing his love feels shallow and weak, and conditional.
I cannot speak for anyone else by myself, but I sincerely believe that love doesn't last without sincere dedication, hard work, struggle, and often times, pain.
They say that nothing worth having is easy/easily obtained. And I genuinely believe that.
While I might not feel like this everyday, at the core of my being, I am grateful for the trials I've experienced. I'm grateful for the people who made life difficult because it lead me to the people who helped me see the strength within myself to conquer those trials.
I'm grateful that I found a belief system that believes in me as I am, accepts me as I am, and doesn't ask me to change unless it's for my greater good. I'm grateful that I belief in such a way that encourages me to love and accept everyone around me for the who they are, even if I don't necessarily agree with them.
With all of that being said, I'm grateful for that preacher. Because not only did he reinforce that I'm on the right path for my personal growth and life, but he also helped me grow from a place of resentment to a place of gratitude.
One of the most beautiful things about self love is that once you find it, you stop concerning yourself with those who lack self love. And when you do interact with those people, they don't have the ability to feed that sense of self loathing because you've already fed it with love and understanding and compassion, which you can then share with those who are also looking for it.
When I originally began this journey through my chakras, I had the idea to go through them within a years time, spending approximately seven weeks on each chakra.
I however have spend the last three months working with this one chakra, and have only move on to the Solar Plexus chakra this past week.
My original intention was not so much to limit myself to working with each one for a set amount of time, but more to deepen my admittedly basic knowledge and to widen my tool set on how to work with each one.
I'm also coming to understand that when I move on to the next chakra, I take the essence of the previous chakras with me, I continue to work with them, it's more that my focus shifts to the next, not my entire self.
Some of the tools I used while focusing on my sacral charka were the Aloha Bay candles, both pillar and tealight, Sun's Eye Sacral Chakra oil, and the stones I used were Orange Calcite and Yellow Jasper.
I am going to leave you with this amazing affirmation I found while simply scrolling through some photos, not only because I think it applies to everything I discussed here but because I was so sincerely moved by it's words. I feel it also ties into the next subject I'll be talking about here Through the Secret Door.
Until next time my loves,
Light, love, and blessings to you all,
Thealynn
It's one of the main hypocritical mantras in Christianity that Christopher Hitchens was so good at pointing out... please forgive the paraphrasing:
ReplyDelete"In order to set up their divine authority to save your soul the Christian Church, who mind you says that despite being created in God image, through doctrine teaches you that you are born sick and commanded to be well. Now let's stop to think about that for a moment to really let it sink in. This is the equivalent of saying to someone who was born without legs that it's their fault they don't have legs. The sheer notion of telling people they are born as imperfect people BY DESIGN, and told they must be made whole or else they'll burn in fiery torture for all eternity. What sort of sick, deranged nonsense is this, and how can anyone with half a brain take it seriously?"