But my Way to it is different than yours.
|No crowds at White Water World on a rainy April 10.|
This has been my problem with the Christian doctrine ever since highschool. Before then I firmly believed that there was One Way, One Truth, One Path through Jesus Christ Our Lord and all that other stuff they told me. I felt sorry for other people who weren't Catholic. Or American, for that matter. I mean, didn't it bother them that they were following the wrong thing, that they were going to hell, that they had an inferior brand of religion? Nationality? Belief structure in general?
I mean, how can it not bother all you other people to be wrong?!
|Come out of the rain Ian!|
I would have made such a great missionary if they had caught me early enough.
Great thanks to the atheist sitting besides me all those Sunday mornings in mass, whispering irreverent - and often absurd - commentaries in my ear.
|Ruumy- O during the worst of the downpour.|
I worried about him at first, that atheist. Grandma, a devout Catholic, complete with rosaries and Mary statues, stayed silent on the subject. Mom just sighed.
"But aren't you scared to go to hell?" I asked him.
"No. I will be buried and that will be the end of it." answered Dad.
Although this, at the time, was an even scarier concept than hell, it did give me something to think about other than church doctrine.
|As good a family photo as I am going to get.|
I had nearly a decade off of English language masses while I was in Europe. I explored Buddhism, lived among Muslim families and learned their traditions, and became a Mormon groupie. Really, this is not irreverent. Greatest bunch of people ever. Totally cool Church. Great Halloween parties. Family oriented. Love God and Jesus. I just finally realised that if I wanted a bunch of old, white guys - ie a Church hierarchy - telling me what to believe I might as well go back to the brand of Christianity I started with.
And then I heard the whole One Way, One Path, One Light through Jesus thing in English again and it disturbed me in a way it hadn't disturbed me in French or German. French can make anything sound beautiful! So can old medieval German churches!
|Ian meet Kangaroo.|
Or maybe it's like swearing in a foreign language. It doesn't hit you with the same force as in your own language. And while this wasn't swearing, it hit me hard, and it hit me wrong and it hurt.
At least the Catholic Church let me have Mary.
I follow the Tao, but it turns out I need my gods.
|Ian in charge.|
So that when Aidan handed me a childrens' book at the library over the holidays, I was ecstatic to read the first line. (He handed it to me on April 9, the day before my birthday, meaning April 10th - which we spent at White Water World / Dreamworld on the Gold Coast - now has a double meaning for me, the beginning of my physical manifestation here in this lifetime and the beginning of my awakening here in this lifetime.)
"A Hindu believes that there are many paths to reaching the goal of being at one with God."
I feel a little white-bread to call myself a Hindu at the moment, but it certainly is the central tenet of my core beliefs.
|Ryan's day. Poor kid, we DRAGGED her to Dreamworld!|
Ryan and Ian and I were in the car last week when Gloria Gaynor came on the radio.
And I sang a little break -up song to the Christian God that had been thrust upon me my whole life.
"Just turn around. Walk out the door. Go on now. You're not welcome anymore. Aren't you the one who tried to hurt me with desire? I won't crumble. I won't lay down and die."
I will survive.
|Fun and games right up til the end!|
That god, my god, is happy that I am finding my own way to Him.
I am living the light, the love and the truth, not the doctrine and the dogma.
Nameste. Om. And Amen!