Faith

I believe in God strongly but have a difficult time sharing it. I don't do church people and I don't do attempted conversions.  I've always been quiet in my faith and in my prayer or meditation and have found it quite a turn off to hear people chattering about it like they are sharing recipes for the Thanksgiving morning breakfast bake.  It seems so personal, so intimate to me.  Sharing one's faith, one's deepest core beliefs, and the spiritual energy that connects us is something that is shared slowly, revealing itself as relationships grow deeper, more connected.  I don't even talk much with my husband about my true sense of faith, but do suspect that he knows.  It's not so much a secret, as a special, private hiding space for myself that I am too shy or too protective to share, though it does inform so much of my life and for those whom are close, it is more than obvious.

My husband and I took in an early evening date night and went to the dine-in movie theatre where we saw the Life of Pi while eating appetizers and drinking beers.  We held hands and giggled at each other every time we saw each other in the 3-D glasses.  This love has been a long time coming.  We both recalled it from those early years and dared let go when the people were tiny and the landscape, both physical and emotional, was unfamiliar.  With his mother recently passed and my searching, melancholy soul always longing for true connection (of all kind, not just romantic), we were seeking. 

There were so many movie options, but we chose The Life of Pi.  Well, I did.  I'd read and loved the book when it came out.  I love Ang Lee's direction of pretty much everything, save the Incredible Hulk and even that had its moments.  The movie, like the book, presented a real meaning-of-life conflict,  proposed an awesome, tragic and magical story, wonder and hope.  I read the book years ago and for me, it was inspiring.  It was heartbreaking.  For my husband it was brand new.  But he leaned back in his chair, ready, willing, and able to be taken wherever this piece wanted to go.  He trusted it and he trusted me, knew I wouldn't take him anywhere he wouldn't be able to go.

I grew up in a Lutheran household and though neither of my parents were raised with this particular brand of Christianity, we were still of the faith.  I cannot say my experience was typical-black-church, though my parents' Southern roots were sewn with church in the thread.  I didn't care for going to church, but I loved my pastor (Pastor Al Gibson) and I loved God.  Loving God for me was a complete secret because it felt as ridiculous as it would have read back then.  Now everyone is professing, but then, only the Jesus freaks were shouting out.  I loved the mystical, the magical, the spiritual, and the other world.  I loved the possibility of guidance, acceptance, and everlasting love, no matter my weaknesses.  And I felt reminded of my weaknesses daily.

I recently spent an evening at a new friend's house and we connected quickly and easily which was, for me, unexpected.  As she began to serve everyone slices of pizza while we lounged around her kitchen, she asked so casually, if we minded her serving the pizza on paper plates so that she could remain kosher.  As she explained how she tries to keep kosher in her home, I felt the strength and pride of her faith.  It put me at ease though hers was different than mine.  I took comfort in her having a guiding principle in her life and in her giving such to her children.  There is nothing incredible in this story.  I have countless friends of different faiths and belief systems--Christians, born-agains, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Zoroastrians, Hindus, Wiccans, folks who practice deep meditation, and read up on Sufism and all things mystical.  But lately, I have felt the pull of the spirit world, the tug of the planets aligning, a quiet calling that has me reaching ever more for something to demonstrate our connection, our universal guiding principle.

The other day I reached out to a new friend on Facebook because I felt her in need somehow.  I asked all my friends to just offer up a prayer or thought, maybe include her in their daily meditation.  She messaged me and asked how I knew that she needed and I just said, "I knew."  What she shared next with me was one of the greatest gifts I've received, and one I'd been asking for in my heart.  She first offered her blog with passionate, personal stories that she shared only with those closest to her.  Attached to her message was a YouTube video of the chant she used in meditation.  My mind blew open.  I had been asking for guidance around meditation.  Had even been given another chant from a beloved friend that I used daily.  Suddenly I realized that I could use this tool daily to connect with the Divine, to free myself of the day to day, even if for just 6, 12, or 24 minutes, options on the YouTube site.  I felt a prayer answered.

This shift has caused all kinds of change in my life.  I have abandoned relationships to which I seemed tethered.  Endured sickness that struck my children and me and caused me to dream of nights well outside my normal zone, far out in the universe.  I have felt a new sense of peace, a new sense of order, seen the lines drawn between people who want to make it good and those who cannot see truly what they want at all.  I have been called selfish and negative and a traitor for wanting only to find myself in the right state of mind for the first time in a long time.  I have found myself back in love, joined with new friends and reconnected with old friends who are searching and seeking.  I want to live in a truth where having and buying and consuming cannot be all that my life and the world I live in will represent.  I need to do differently in order to pass different values on to my children.  I need to provide for my children spiritual guidance, choices, options, ideas, and the power to conjure for themselves a new order. 

A few nights ago, while putting the girls down to sleep, after saying our prayers, I began the Nichiren Buddhist chant, nam myoho renge kyo, slowly in the darkness.  The girls listened calmly, then Lily asked, "How do you know that language?"  I told her that Uncle Ray had shared it with me and that it helped me and that deep down we all know that language.  The cool thing about Lily is that she believed that.  It was enough for her.  Virginie hummed along with me as I chanted until there was silence.  Both girls drifted to sleep as I chanted to put our lives in harmony and rhythm with the law of life, Dharma.  I believe this.  I have faith.



(c)  Copyright 2013.  Repatriated Mama:  Back to the Suburban Grind.