My mind has been a fishbowl lately. I have certain things anchored to the bottom, but with every lap around the tank, the water is getting foggy, and I’m losing the clear view I once had.
I left the Catholic faith. I thought I’d wear this with the other people who took off the guilt and the heartache in being raised in something that no longer pertains to much of anything. I thought that in leaving, I’d find the ultimate peace.
As we search for holy ground to host our wedding ceremony, I’m struck by how many rules, regulations, fees, classes, and quite-literally, bullshit that we’re asked to sign, jump through, dictate, and listen about. I thought it was only the Catholic faith- because that’s what I was told… “The Catholic faith is so corrupt, and so wrong!” And truly- it is. But mainly? Organized religion in general, sickens and disgusts me, but we’ve heard that all before.
Maybe it’s all the same- just like every job we take and everytime we tell ourselves that at least our new boss isn’t, (exactly,) like our old boss, or maybe it doesn’t matter. It’s people- and therein lies the failure.
We hold flags to our country, and doctrine to our beliefs and we promise ourselves that with every ‘change’ that happens, greatness is going to be accomplished. It all washes out back into the sea, our hopes- our dreams, and ultimately- the only thing that changes is our constant criticisms or hopes when in all reality, nothing really changes at all.
I scoured the Lutheran church, and found that we’d have to sign sheets at the end of the pew, (for attendance,) to say we were present for the
So, then I went to the
My hopes were in Methodist, (and still remain somewhat in tact,) but after hearing that our current President is a proud Methodist, I somewhat shelved my high hopes, and lowered my expectations- because besides being an evil-bastard, I’ve heard him preach against gay rights, and ‘values,’ (which I love.) Values is like an all-encompassing umbrella of hatred to people like that- anything that doesn’t reflect their own lives of wealth, roboticism and ‘Christianity,’ is deemed, just as our leader put it, “an axis of evil.”
So- I’ll have to really decide what’s important. Because by the day, (as Josh laughs at me,) I think Vegas is looking better and better. I’ve even contemplated have an ordained minister friend of mine just throw it all together in some random field- away from the hypocrisy of churches, and other places of worship. I don’t find God in there, anymore- and that deeply saddens me.
It’s not like I’ve lost my faith- (honestly, far from it,) but I’m learning that faith is more than a subjective belief in a building that houses donuts after mass and people who don’t act what they believe anywhere outside the walls. I don’t think faith can be ‘lost’- or misplaced. I think concepts of ‘faith’ that are no longer believable, fall off- while someone searches to find God elsewhere.
I’m not sure where He is. I think sometimes he’s the lady on the bus who smiles at me every morning, or perhaps even my friend James who reminds me how much he cares, or maybe- I see him in my mother’s pain- which just like the belief that he is omnipresent, never seems to go away. I don’t see him in songs with organs that proclaim his good works or neverending forgiveness, but I do see him in the basic choruses of songs that when I close my eyes- I feel like I should be singing instead of the ones in the mauve books, anyway. I see him in my body, the way it’s given and took, and bounced back- and breathes no matter what the situation. I suppose in the moments when I’m laying with those I love- my daughter’s head pressed against my cheek, or my love’s hand in mine- I feel him. I see him in my daughter- in her wonder and her expressions. I don’t think God ever wanted to be a fancy church, or gold goblets. I think he wanted to be Ava’s smiles, or someone’s strength to keep trying after all their hopes fell to the ground. I think he wanted to be the touches we give each other- and despises that we’ve put such rules and divide on touching, on loving and on showcasing what we feel.
When you decide to open your eyes to the evils of things- there’s no returning. The words you’ve heard, or the things you’ve experienced are there even when your eyes are closed. I see my friends from childhood, (a small amount,) still clinging to the belief system out of pure faith- because they have a deeper belief than me, and one that I heartfully respect. We have a choice- we can remain where we are, if we are truly happy, and succeed in our current belief system, or we can examine, reflect, and leave the boat to tread in some very scary waters. I used to be so firmly planted at the bottom of my fishbowl with a theology degree, and a want to spiritually involve myself with others- and I removed my suction cups, floated to the top and here I am. Floating, dodging the shit my mother mouths to me about being in such grave danger of flunking out of heaven. She tells me, “I’m so sorry for you, Kate.” And I want to cry, not out of shame, or disappointment, but out of fear because my mother’s eyes will never see beyond her own perceptions of right, and righter, yet. There’s no redemption for those that have left the church with people who will never understand. My mother piles on the wrongly placed guilt because it’s all she knows how to do. I suppose when the stomach pain, or worries of her health keep her up, the thought of a magical man who showers down good to only those who believe the strict, Catholic set of rules and end up only happy in the afterlife- well.. that’s all she has, so she clings through the pain. I long to tell her, “Mom, I don’t believe in your version of what God is because you’ve made him YOU- someone angry and spiteful and loving only if I earn acceptance.” God isn’t a vindictive 60-year-old mother, that’s for sure.
Until I figure out who exactly I’m looking for, I’ll probably still be floating. Until then- at least I know what I don’t believe in, and can figure out a way to express it in much healthier, and happier way.
