Sunday, July 21, 2013

The Son


My belief in god began and ended in the Mormon church. My strongest memory of being a child was fighting with the Sunday school teacher about whether or not our family should have a son.

We were to build yellow houses out of craft paper and my house had five windows. And each window stood for a person in the family: One window for my mother one window for my father, my sister and I. That left one window empty I don’t believe I even thought twice about putting a picture of our dog, Whisky; which I’m sure was a name loved by the church, in the other window.

This became something to call a five year old out on I guess and I was told to put a picture of a son, because you never know there could be a son in the family. And that animals weren’t family members.

 

Last night I dreamed that the family was airing out dirty laundry and that there was a son. I cried and admitted that and I always imagined as child that an older brother would come and rescue me. My fantasies weren’t that I would marry a prince, but that this older brother would find me and let me live.

 

There was on old chair I picked up from the garbage at university and I sat it in front of the window and watched the cars drive down south park street from 8 floors up. It was old and yucky and who knows who had it before me, but I would love to have saved it and set it in the sun room now, I’ve always given things away in the thought that something will come back to me when I need it to, but so far I have had no comfy chairs come into my life for the sun room

 

My belief in god has twisted in and out over the years until I decided I was an atheist. I knew there was something larger in the world, and I thought that the only answer was church. This led me to a Christmas concert my first winter home from university and a cult of a church my third year of university. M

My first year university experience came from the happiest person I’ve ever known who insisted you can’t have Christmas without church and kids. By the end of the concert I was embarrassed to be there, it wasn’t what I wanted god to be or imagined it to be. I later admitted that I don’t really like kids and only like the coloured lights at Christmas.

 

The second I was walking the underground halls at the university feeling lost and alone and confused and said to myself “Dear god show me the path That I’m to follow.” and a lovely lady handed me a card to her church and I went a few times until they said I had to leave all my non church going friends behind and make them jealous of the friends I was making in church. But I loved the singing and the people seemed nice. And they were quick to reassure me they weren’t a cult.

My path with Jesus had ended, maybe that’s what the prayer in the dark hallway was about, because I wondered for a long time and doubted a lot of my decisions because of the prayer in the hallway. I learned that a prayer does not always guarantee the right answer or the right thing to do, it may be that there’s another experience to mark off your list.

 

Post university I was in a bachelor apartment and started to make visits to the little mysteries store down the street. Where I learned, not Wicca per say, but I decided nature was my church, that if I wanted to feel “god” I walked through the park and sat at the end of the cliffs overlooking the water, that worked until one day I started to point out and realize where all the sewers were coming out of the ground and bubbling, you could tell by the bubbling water and mass amount of seagulls and in the summer you could hear the Shakespeare by the sea kids yell “a whore a whore my kingdom for a whore,” and me feeling pity that they could have failed voice class so severely.

I learned I could find this god on my own.  

I learned to use candles and which colour was used on which day and how to summon the gnomes and the salamanders and at times I could feel these creatures in the room with me, But I kept getting further and further away from reality. So I stopped and moved home, where for a long while I just wore a t shirt that read atheist.

 

But I could hear things, know things, feel things, understand things. My confessions became morning pages my lost moments were spent on the river watching the water flow down to the Atlantic.

 

And then I met an energy healer, who understood what I meant when I said “the energy in this room is crazy. She said “I’ll fix it” and she did. She referred to this god as the -power of the universe- and -the creator- and it made sense to me. I bought a whole new set of candles in many different colours and meditate by the colour that suits me best what I need to work on, usually peace and intuition although sometimes the green money candle comes up and I pray for money.

Interesting things have happened, gnomes and fearies are everywhere. I’ve found out interesting things about my life, I’ve shared stories that I’ve kept inside for 30 years and I’ve looked at all the books I’ve collected and given away over the years about  looking after nature and finding yourself. I chose to look after the energy of the universe and let it look after me. There are pieces of my bible is every book that I choose to read.

Now I just need to make sure that I can play in reality and this other world.

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