As I’ve written a bit about in previous posts, I’ve gone through quite a broad and deep transformation as far as religion and spirituality goes.
I was just sitting here surfing around totally unrelated to anything religious or spiritual and suddenly realized I might not want there to be an afterlife. I’ve been thinking more and more that I may just not care, as long as I don’t have to be aware of living anymore, if that makes any sense.
I’ve spent 40 years trying to learn and grow as a spiritual being with the constant belief in some kind of afterlife, and that being ‘released from my earthly/flesh bonds’ would be the greatest thing to ever happen and I’d flit around the Universe in Spirit forever having a smashingly grand time.
I think I just want sleep. Rest. Shut down. Stop. Cease. End.
I want Oblivion.
Very soon.
I grew up in a Middle Class family with only one other sibling. My Dad was Air Force (then worked on base after retiring) my Mom didn’t go to work until I was around eleven, nursery work (flowers, not kids) and retail. We lived good, but I was far from spoiled. We never bought a ‘new’ car, only used, used the same furniture until it literally fell apart, etc. My parents were pretty minimalist and plain of taste, only reasonably priced, but sturdy and durable, no worry about color or matching kitchen chairs or replacing the early 70’s wallpaper, wood paneling or floor tile. The one time we got new carpet it was replaced with the same color and only because thewy had considered selling briefly. We never had a dishwashing machine or drapes that went with, well… anything. They too, were only for function and lasting power.
Anywho; with that as a background, I wondered at 16 if what I’d heard about different classes of people not really matching up together (like in all the movies) was true. I wanted to believe the movies and fairy tales. Who wouldn’t? I know now what the saying ‘Water seeks it’s own level’ really means and that no, rarely, if ever, do the classes mix in a harmonious and beneficial ecstacy. At least no where around me.
I’d also dreamed of finding that rich, handsom prince, but at the same time, I did make my own money and rely on myself, always furthering my knowledge and growing as a person. I’ve fallen repeatedly on hard times that have all but knocked me back to almost square one as far as finances and posessions go. It’s happened so many times that I have recently come to believe that we are pre-destined to live in a certain ‘role’ throughout our lives. Some get to go from nothing to wealth, some the reverse, some chug along middle class all their lives, happy as larks. Some have a wild rollercoaster ride to all extremes. Me? When I start getting too comfortable, too happy, too ‘above my station’ I get knocked back down. I’m attempting to move against some set law in the Universe that will let me push/expand it to an extent, like the Universe does, then snaps it back in place when I attempt to step out of my place.
It makes perfect sense to me. I get it now.
I think realizing this, approxamatly a year ago, was also when I became aware that I was slipping away from my beliefs. For the first time, just 2 weeks ago, I openly admitted that I am Agnostic. That hurts in a way. I loved being a Spiritual person and all the trappings that came with it. I had felt I was growing and expanding and thinking for myself. I was raised Protestant. My Mother is Anglican/Church of England, my Dad LDS but never claimed it nor set foot in a church of any kind let alone ever said word one about his beliefs. In HS I dabbled in Satanism. Then I went completely the other way following a group of ‘Deliverance Christians’ speaking in tongues, breaking away in our own group, throwing out our concert T-shirts and my unicorn collection. Then I converted to Catholocism. Hot on the heels of that was Voudo; you can’t really be a good Voudoun unless you’re Catholic! WitchCraft (not Wicca) followed that, and there I thought I’d stay happily, until… I exceeded my Station in Life. Again. And again. I fought it and fought it, and therein lies my problem. Stop fighting.
I was raised generic Protestant. My Mom is Church of England my dad was raised LDS but distanced himself from it long B4 I came along. I do not know why exactly. I never knew any of his views on religion, God, etc. I grew up here in LDS Zion. Never felt the need to join (don’t believe it). I was always (from age 4 is the youngest memory) had an interest in the occult, supernatural, etc. At 20 I converted to Catholicism. I studied Demonology and also became involved with a pentecostal/evangelical break-off born again christian group(s), I essentially wanted to learn about religion. Something was still missing/not ‘clicking’ with me, there’s more out there. I started studying VouDou and Witchcraft (started w/ ‘Wicca’ and decided it was too adulterated) and reading/learning what I could about the older religions, tribal religions etc. Something seems familiar with them but I’m still searching.
As for Speaking in Tongues; soon after I began doing it, there was a debate with our church members about if it HAD to have an interpretation to be valid, the consensus was that if it was spoken out in the middle of a sermon, congregation, it needed interpretation, if one felt the need to do it while say, scared or upset or even just praying, then it was simply this; a language ‘God’ gave you to speak directly to Him (or the Angels) in prayer and the reason you cannot understand it is so your heart/mind/spirit will focus in (something like that) and no external chatter, stuff going on in your head, gets in the way and ‘interrupts’ the prayer. I guess it’s like chanting then, or saying the Rosary, it focuses you.
I still am unsure what it really is…I can still do it, it wasn’t taken away, so there must be a reason. Maybe it’s something ancient? I don’t think it’s as simple as I used to think it was.
