I realized just before Passover that it had been about 5 years since my Dad was declared cancer free. And maybe it was because of the type of cancer he had but I realized that we had never really acknowledged his fight.
I remember when my parents told me and my sister about his diagnosis. It was at breakfast. My entire immediate family was at the table and my parents said they had something to tell us. And my first reaction was "well have you looked at what the ACS says about it?" Can you blame me? I was interning for them at the time. I defaulted to that. Rather than let my emotions do anything. They told us when the surgery was scheduled. Told us about how early it had been caught. How it was in the early stages and the chance of successful recovery was essentially 100%.
And when I realized it had been 5 years, I realized that the 100% chance recovery rate had allowed us to diminish what we experienced. Sure, it wasn't what many others have suffered through but it was by no means easy.
After we left that breakfast table, I locked myself in the bathroom and called my best friend. I remember sitting on the floor crying. Choking out the words. The hushed silence on the other end as she listened. The immediate "I'm on my way". My reassurance that it wasn't necessary and yet the overwhelming love I felt for someone unrelated to me who was about to drop everything. And for something that had an almost 100% chance of success.
I remember the long hours spent in the hospital waiting room. As we drove there we could see the moon above the city. We watched the sun move to the other side of the building through the wall of windows. I remember when we first saw him after the surgery. The days immediately after. The months that passed when he was still recovering and I was half way around the world.
Even now, 5 years later there are remnants of what changed since his surgery. But I am so thankful that I still have my dad. And no matter how his cancer was compared to others' I wanted to take time to acknowledge the time that has passed. And our family Passover seder was such a wonderful opportunity. On a holiday (my favorite) when we celebrate freedom and survival against the odds, a holiday that we spend with family to recall past stories, this was the ideal chance to reflect on 5 years being cancer free.
I could not be more blessed.
Monday, April 21, 2014
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Returned to Facebook. Leaving again.
I spent the last 5 weeks of 2013 off of Facebook. I didn't deactivate it, I didn't unfriend everyone, I just logged out. And in the two months that I've been back on, I have a new appreciation for how much better off I was without it. Sure it was great to have Facebook Message as a way of keeping in touch with people although I prefer gchat or (I know I'm a dinosaur) hand written letters. There are many conversations with friends both near and far that are sustained through this medium. And I also find myself more often getting news about the world from Facebook. Plus I'm able to keep up with what's going on with friends and even just for wishing people a happy birthday. So yes, Facebook has its perks but not being on it was unremarkable. If anything I was used to having to explain my ongoing battle with technology since I am regularly questioned about not having a smartphone.
The issue is that so many people do use it as a forum for contact and so to disappear from Facebook meant that some of the less stable relationships I have with people are now just fringe relationships. Granted, if I need to be on Facebook to maintain any relationship, well that's actually not a relationship I consider worth working on. But at the same time I have always been the person who tries to keep in touch, if a person has touched my life in some way then he/she is forever of significance to me.
I doubt I'll ever go off of Facebook for such a long stretch of time in the near future. But I'm going to occasionally do purges because I found it to be a grounding experience despite having to explain it to everyone. Honestly, part of why I won't do it for weeks at a time again is because it was really annoying when I suddenly started receiving e-mails from Facebook every third day telling me what I was "missing" such as messages, notifications, and status updates. I remarked to one friend that it was like having a needy ex, I was taken for granted while I was just there but then a few days later once Facebook realized I was serious about taking a break it was all "...but I love you. Come back to me."
For now I'm going to take my smartphone-less self off Facebook again, only for a week this time. I'm lacking almost all technological devices so I'll still - unfortunately - be logged on everywhere but oh well, I'll just ignore it. See y'all in a week!
The issue is that so many people do use it as a forum for contact and so to disappear from Facebook meant that some of the less stable relationships I have with people are now just fringe relationships. Granted, if I need to be on Facebook to maintain any relationship, well that's actually not a relationship I consider worth working on. But at the same time I have always been the person who tries to keep in touch, if a person has touched my life in some way then he/she is forever of significance to me.
I doubt I'll ever go off of Facebook for such a long stretch of time in the near future. But I'm going to occasionally do purges because I found it to be a grounding experience despite having to explain it to everyone. Honestly, part of why I won't do it for weeks at a time again is because it was really annoying when I suddenly started receiving e-mails from Facebook every third day telling me what I was "missing" such as messages, notifications, and status updates. I remarked to one friend that it was like having a needy ex, I was taken for granted while I was just there but then a few days later once Facebook realized I was serious about taking a break it was all "...but I love you. Come back to me."
For now I'm going to take my smartphone-less self off Facebook again, only for a week this time. I'm lacking almost all technological devices so I'll still - unfortunately - be logged on everywhere but oh well, I'll just ignore it. See y'all in a week!
Sunday, February 2, 2014
An Open Letter to Taglit-Birthright Israel
Shalom Taglit,
A few weeks ago I was told by a few people that according to the new rules, I'm eligible to go on Birthright. Only days before my 26th birthday the changes allow a new set of Jewish young adults to experience Israel in a very special way. And yet amidst all the text messages and conversations that followed I continued to ask "but am I really?" Because I'm still not sure, I can only hope.
In 2007 I applied for the winter Birthright trip through my undergraduate institution. I was completely honest on my application and a few days after first starting my application, my account was locked. A quick call to Birthright informed me that my participation on March of the Living a year and a half prior made me ineligible, a new rule they had just implemented for this coming series of trips but hadn't publicized. On March I had spent a week in Israel primarily focused on discussing how the Shoah had resulted in a homeland for the Jewish diaspora. We had just spent a week in Poland and at 18 years young I was overwhelmed and still reeling from the emotional journey. My first memories of Israel are tinged with memories of "Never Again".
In the years since learning that I could not go on Birthright, I watched my friends explore and experience Israel like I've never seen. They told me stories of climbing Masada at dawn and looking out over Syria from the Golan Heights. They told me about waking up in a Bedouin tent and spending the trip getting to know Israelis who had just completed their time in the army. They told me about riding camels and watching their new friends finally become a b'nai mitzvah.
I have been to Israel a few times in my life now since March of the Living, however each trip was geared toward a specific purpose, one which could have been served in any country. And so, since learning about the new rules, I've been thinking about what the purpose of Birthright truly is. It cannot simply be about a free trip to Israel, there is surely more to it. Yet it seems that Jewish young adults who have spent a significant amount of time in Israel prior to college and even Israeli dual-citizens can participate if they have not been on a trip that follows certain parameters. I don't know if the trips I've been on fall into those parameters but I do believe that the original and key purpose of Birthright is to create a particular connection with Israel, one that I do not believe I have.
Those experiences I mentioned earlier that my friends told me about, I have experienced none of them. I read articles occasionally that my friends post on social media about Israel but I analyze them the same way as articles about the political situation in the United States, with a certain amount of disillusionment. I continuously hear twice a year about this connection with Israel that is inherently tied with going on Birthright, a connection that I cannot relate to. As a Jewish young adult I feel more disconnected from Israel in part because I have not been able to join my peers in these conversations about a land that I'm told is my home.
Growing up in an interracial household, I constantly have to explain my Jewish identity. And while I am extremely proud of who I am and where I come from, it makes me wonder where I belong among my fellow Jews. Combined with having never had this experience of Birthright that so many others have had, I continuously struggle with my connection, or lack thereof, to Israel. Is it just another country where many of my friends visit/live or would it be my home should I choose for it to be?
Opening the eligibility requirements to more Jewish young adults provides a beautiful opportunity for many more to connect to Israel in a way that is unique to the Birthright experience. And I hope, humbly, that I might be among them so that I may finally view this country through a new pair of eyes.
Lehitra'ot,
Sarah
A few weeks ago I was told by a few people that according to the new rules, I'm eligible to go on Birthright. Only days before my 26th birthday the changes allow a new set of Jewish young adults to experience Israel in a very special way. And yet amidst all the text messages and conversations that followed I continued to ask "but am I really?" Because I'm still not sure, I can only hope.
In 2007 I applied for the winter Birthright trip through my undergraduate institution. I was completely honest on my application and a few days after first starting my application, my account was locked. A quick call to Birthright informed me that my participation on March of the Living a year and a half prior made me ineligible, a new rule they had just implemented for this coming series of trips but hadn't publicized. On March I had spent a week in Israel primarily focused on discussing how the Shoah had resulted in a homeland for the Jewish diaspora. We had just spent a week in Poland and at 18 years young I was overwhelmed and still reeling from the emotional journey. My first memories of Israel are tinged with memories of "Never Again".
In the years since learning that I could not go on Birthright, I watched my friends explore and experience Israel like I've never seen. They told me stories of climbing Masada at dawn and looking out over Syria from the Golan Heights. They told me about waking up in a Bedouin tent and spending the trip getting to know Israelis who had just completed their time in the army. They told me about riding camels and watching their new friends finally become a b'nai mitzvah.
I have been to Israel a few times in my life now since March of the Living, however each trip was geared toward a specific purpose, one which could have been served in any country. And so, since learning about the new rules, I've been thinking about what the purpose of Birthright truly is. It cannot simply be about a free trip to Israel, there is surely more to it. Yet it seems that Jewish young adults who have spent a significant amount of time in Israel prior to college and even Israeli dual-citizens can participate if they have not been on a trip that follows certain parameters. I don't know if the trips I've been on fall into those parameters but I do believe that the original and key purpose of Birthright is to create a particular connection with Israel, one that I do not believe I have.
Those experiences I mentioned earlier that my friends told me about, I have experienced none of them. I read articles occasionally that my friends post on social media about Israel but I analyze them the same way as articles about the political situation in the United States, with a certain amount of disillusionment. I continuously hear twice a year about this connection with Israel that is inherently tied with going on Birthright, a connection that I cannot relate to. As a Jewish young adult I feel more disconnected from Israel in part because I have not been able to join my peers in these conversations about a land that I'm told is my home.
Growing up in an interracial household, I constantly have to explain my Jewish identity. And while I am extremely proud of who I am and where I come from, it makes me wonder where I belong among my fellow Jews. Combined with having never had this experience of Birthright that so many others have had, I continuously struggle with my connection, or lack thereof, to Israel. Is it just another country where many of my friends visit/live or would it be my home should I choose for it to be?
Opening the eligibility requirements to more Jewish young adults provides a beautiful opportunity for many more to connect to Israel in a way that is unique to the Birthright experience. And I hope, humbly, that I might be among them so that I may finally view this country through a new pair of eyes.
Lehitra'ot,
Sarah
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Being Thankful
Over the last few weeks I've felt surrounded by talk about Thanksgivukkah and Black Friday. While this isn't a bad thing, it's left me thinking constantly about what we're supposed to be celebrating as opposed to what we're actually celebrating.
While there are obvious issues with Thanksgiving (i.e. the terrible treatment of the Native Americans), I can appreciate that the modern holiday is supposedly focused around being thankful for everything that we have. It's a chance for everyone to slow down and spend time with loved ones. Then there's Hanukkah, a holiday that I think has meaningful lessons revolving around overcoming against the odds (the Maccabees' success) and making the best of what we have because sometimes it turns out to be enough (the miracle of the oil).
I can get behind these values - but sadly it seems most of this is forgotten or glossed over. Thanksgivukkah has become as commercialized as each separate holiday and we've become so obsessed with the "coolness" factor of this occurrence that we've missed many opportunities for great conversations about what it means for these holidays to coincide.
And of course, Black Friday is an overshadowing cloud. At a time when we talk about being grateful for what we have, many people will be forced to leave their families early to go work so that the rest of us can storm the malls after mapping out everything we need during dinner. I've never been a fan of Black Friday because I generally dislike our consumerist society but in recent years I've become more disgusted by corporations and the lengths they will go to make money. Side note: This is not a holier-than-thou rant, I acknowledge my consumerism and do desire materialistic things but I am not driven by my want of things and I definitely don't view them as needs.
Surprisingly however, it was a random Facebook post that actually led me to decide to go on a Facebook hiatus until 2014. A friend of mine was traveling and visited a national park that I'm sure is filled with natural beauty. The Facebook post said something about enjoying the view and how oddly there was cell service. Look, I understand most people use their phones as cameras now but why why why did noticing cell service mean that a Facebook status had to comment on that? Just because it was there? Who cares? Why not just enjoy the view and not feel like you have to get your online persona to share it with the world?
We, myself included, are behind screens just too damn much. I sit at a computer almost all day just to go home and do the same except this time it's for "pleasure". Now in some regards I don't have a choice. I'm in grad school and by nature that means I'm on my computer reading, researching, writing, etc. But even when I'm not doing those things I feel like I'm constantly tied to a device. I know that not going on Facebook isn't going to necessarily change anything but I expect that it will change me.
I want to live in the moment. I want to be thankful for what I have. I want to remember that sometimes the underdog can come out on top. I want to be happy with what I have and make the most of it. And I want to have and do all of these things without feeling the need to "tell" people about it, without feeling like I've been "heard" because of a red notification flag.
So maybe it's silly but I've been hyper aware of my usage of social media since I became "that person" in both of my jobs. Not only will I start spending more time doing things that serve an actual purpose but it'll get me to think more about what really matters. And at the very least it'll be an experiment in self-discipline.
Happy Thanksgiving! Hanukkah Sameach! Wishing you a happy, healthy, enjoyable holiday. Let's spend it being thankful.
While there are obvious issues with Thanksgiving (i.e. the terrible treatment of the Native Americans), I can appreciate that the modern holiday is supposedly focused around being thankful for everything that we have. It's a chance for everyone to slow down and spend time with loved ones. Then there's Hanukkah, a holiday that I think has meaningful lessons revolving around overcoming against the odds (the Maccabees' success) and making the best of what we have because sometimes it turns out to be enough (the miracle of the oil).
I can get behind these values - but sadly it seems most of this is forgotten or glossed over. Thanksgivukkah has become as commercialized as each separate holiday and we've become so obsessed with the "coolness" factor of this occurrence that we've missed many opportunities for great conversations about what it means for these holidays to coincide.
And of course, Black Friday is an overshadowing cloud. At a time when we talk about being grateful for what we have, many people will be forced to leave their families early to go work so that the rest of us can storm the malls after mapping out everything we need during dinner. I've never been a fan of Black Friday because I generally dislike our consumerist society but in recent years I've become more disgusted by corporations and the lengths they will go to make money. Side note: This is not a holier-than-thou rant, I acknowledge my consumerism and do desire materialistic things but I am not driven by my want of things and I definitely don't view them as needs.
Surprisingly however, it was a random Facebook post that actually led me to decide to go on a Facebook hiatus until 2014. A friend of mine was traveling and visited a national park that I'm sure is filled with natural beauty. The Facebook post said something about enjoying the view and how oddly there was cell service. Look, I understand most people use their phones as cameras now but why why why did noticing cell service mean that a Facebook status had to comment on that? Just because it was there? Who cares? Why not just enjoy the view and not feel like you have to get your online persona to share it with the world?
We, myself included, are behind screens just too damn much. I sit at a computer almost all day just to go home and do the same except this time it's for "pleasure". Now in some regards I don't have a choice. I'm in grad school and by nature that means I'm on my computer reading, researching, writing, etc. But even when I'm not doing those things I feel like I'm constantly tied to a device. I know that not going on Facebook isn't going to necessarily change anything but I expect that it will change me.
I want to live in the moment. I want to be thankful for what I have. I want to remember that sometimes the underdog can come out on top. I want to be happy with what I have and make the most of it. And I want to have and do all of these things without feeling the need to "tell" people about it, without feeling like I've been "heard" because of a red notification flag.
So maybe it's silly but I've been hyper aware of my usage of social media since I became "that person" in both of my jobs. Not only will I start spending more time doing things that serve an actual purpose but it'll get me to think more about what really matters. And at the very least it'll be an experiment in self-discipline.
Happy Thanksgiving! Hanukkah Sameach! Wishing you a happy, healthy, enjoyable holiday. Let's spend it being thankful.
Monday, November 11, 2013
Experiment
Being in graduate school has been fulfilling in ways I can't describe and yet I have felt like I'm missing something. I went from simply working full-time to attending school part-time and working two part-time jobs. Needless to say, I essentially feel like I don't have a life because I'm being pulled in so many different directions and yet I wouldn't have it any other way right now. That being said, I have had to put a limit on activities I previously had time for due to the demands of these many responsibilities I've taken on. And while I occasionally try to make time for other things, I have missed a project I was part of last year.
For a while I was part of a movement called More Love Letters (check it out here). While I enjoyed it for the most part there were certain things I wasn't a huge fan of, and after they made a few changes - combined with how busy I got with grad school and two jobs - I stopped actively participating. Recently I've been feeling that mid-end of semester stress coming on and I've been looking for outlets. I continue to use my typically outlets on and off there is still something missing. I was looking through all the mail that's accumulated at my parents house since the last time I was there yesterday and there is just so much junk. For every piece of personal mail there was at least 10-15 pieces of mail that would've been better off remaining part of a tree. And that's about when I realized what I wanted to do for when I need to break up the endless grind that is grad school: I want to write to people.
Most of my family and friends know that I was born into the wrong generation. I rehabilitated an old turntable and have been slowly accumulating records. I have a phone that is only good for calling and texting (and even mass texting doesn't really work on it). I just bought a women's pocket watch. I like reading and knitting. And I really like handwritten letters. So I'm asking for help with this project because unlike MLL where I would be writing to strangers, I want to write to people that I care about. And while I do think that sometimes we need strangers to help us along our path, I also think that knowing someone and being able to write something for him/her specifically is special in its own way.
Here's how it'll work: If you want some snail mail, I will send you something before my next birthday but I'm not going to tell you when I'm sending it so it'll be somewhat of a surprise. To get a letter, e-mail me with your mailing address using the subject "Letter Experiment". If you don't know my personal e-mail address, be resourceful and find a way to get it from me. You can include if there's anything in particular you think I should know prior to my writing to you but you don't have to. Also since I'm giving myself a deadline, I'm taking requests through Thanksgiving Day, November 28th. I don't expect to have to cap it but should I get more than 20 responses, I'm gonna have to cut it off at that. Actually no, I'll cap it at 26.
I don't know what to expect from this experiment but if I can make even just one person's day between now and my birthday it'll make me really happy.
For a while I was part of a movement called More Love Letters (check it out here). While I enjoyed it for the most part there were certain things I wasn't a huge fan of, and after they made a few changes - combined with how busy I got with grad school and two jobs - I stopped actively participating. Recently I've been feeling that mid-end of semester stress coming on and I've been looking for outlets. I continue to use my typically outlets on and off there is still something missing. I was looking through all the mail that's accumulated at my parents house since the last time I was there yesterday and there is just so much junk. For every piece of personal mail there was at least 10-15 pieces of mail that would've been better off remaining part of a tree. And that's about when I realized what I wanted to do for when I need to break up the endless grind that is grad school: I want to write to people.
Most of my family and friends know that I was born into the wrong generation. I rehabilitated an old turntable and have been slowly accumulating records. I have a phone that is only good for calling and texting (and even mass texting doesn't really work on it). I just bought a women's pocket watch. I like reading and knitting. And I really like handwritten letters. So I'm asking for help with this project because unlike MLL where I would be writing to strangers, I want to write to people that I care about. And while I do think that sometimes we need strangers to help us along our path, I also think that knowing someone and being able to write something for him/her specifically is special in its own way.
Here's how it'll work: If you want some snail mail, I will send you something before my next birthday but I'm not going to tell you when I'm sending it so it'll be somewhat of a surprise. To get a letter, e-mail me with your mailing address using the subject "Letter Experiment". If you don't know my personal e-mail address, be resourceful and find a way to get it from me. You can include if there's anything in particular you think I should know prior to my writing to you but you don't have to. Also since I'm giving myself a deadline, I'm taking requests through Thanksgiving Day, November 28th. I don't expect to have to cap it but should I get more than 20 responses, I'm gonna have to cut it off at that. Actually no, I'll cap it at 26.
I don't know what to expect from this experiment but if I can make even just one person's day between now and my birthday it'll make me really happy.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Judging
I recently said to someone "don't judge me" after I'd sent them something to read. And now that a few days have passed, I've been thinking about why I chose to say that. And it comes down to vulnerability. I was nervous to share it and that's why I reacted with fear of judgment. No one likes to feel like they're being judged, but as that thought crossed my mind another one contradicted it. People who are not confident, people who are unsure of what they're sharing, people who are trying to impress someone, people who are afraid of being vulnerable - these are the people who don't like being judged.
I was comfortable with these thoughts I'd had but sharing them made me vulnerable. And that fear was why I reacted with that phrase. What I meant was, I'm afraid that sharing this with you will permanently alter how you view me and will change our relationship.
The thing is - when it comes to people I care about, I should be comfortable enough with myself and with our friendship not to say that. And if it's someone I don't care about or if it negatively impacts that friendship - well then who cares? I respect my friends and that needs to go both ways which means that my real friends won't judge me. At least they won't judge me in a negative way like what is implied from requesting judgement be withheld.
The world can judge me all it likes. The best people for me will love me because of who I am regardless. While it is hard to be vulnerable and even harder to see friendships change or go, the right people will be a part of my life. The rest I don't need.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
7 minutes
It takes me 7 minutes to walk from my office back to my apartment. It's a nice walk. I pass a reservoir and now that the leaves are changing, it's beautiful to look at along with the reflection of the trees and blue sky dotted with fluffy clouds. Usually I spend these 7 minutes thinking. Sometimes it's just about what a nice day it is or about how miserable the walk will be when there's a ton of snow of the ground and it's below freezing. Sometimes it's about what I'm going to have for dinner or about how much I'd love to just curl up in bed and sleep until morning. Sometimes it's about family and friends I haven't spoken to lately or about people (guys) I've seen or would like to see. But for reasons I can't explain, today was different. And for 7 minutes, I came to realizations that I've struggled with my entire life.
As I began my walk, I thought about a conversation I had earlier today about juju. I don't tend to use this word since my introduction to it was from "Grey's Anatomy" so I have no idea why I chose it but the fact was that it fit what I was trying to say. While debating what other words/phrases I could've used - fate, karma, destiny, meant to be, luck, chance - I had the most intense realization I think I've ever had. It hit me spontaneously and unexpectedly; similarly to what I experienced when I first realized I was "in love" and not just that I loved my then-boyfriend. But this realization had even more of an impact on me because this has been a dilemma I've had for years and something I firmly thought I knew the answer to.
I actually do believe in God.
And writing that, like thinking it, is more surreal than I can begin to explain. It wasn't even like, "I think I might", the thought came to me with clarity and finality. But it's not even this singular thought of realizing that I do believe in God, it's everything that goes along with it that consumed me for 7 minutes. Because up until that thought actually crossed my mind, ever since I became aware of my ability to process my relationship with my religion, I had maintained that I don't know if I believe in God. Or G-D which I think isn't quite the same thing. And by that I meant that I didn't believe we are SIMS and God holds the mouse. And yet I suddenly realized that I do believe in God, a thought that contradicts everything I thought I knew believed.
An elaboration.
I wouldn't say I'm a person of faith. I associate that label with people who can spout verse at the drop of a hat or who blindly follow because it's what they think they're supposed to do. I am neither. I frequently have to Google things that go above my basic Sunday School education and I have tried to learn the reasons behind holidays, traditions, etc. If I don't agree with them, I don't celebrate/follow them. And since my opinion often changes, my relationship with religion has continued to evolve over the last 7 years.
My senior year of college I took an assessment called StrengthsQuest. It essentially tells you things you already know about yourself but in a new kind of language. When I received my top 5 I wasn't surprised per se but hadn't thought those would be my top. I bring up SQ because my second word only after "Input" was "Connectedness". Here's how SQ describes people with this strength: "People who are especially talented in the Connectedness theme have faith in the links between all things. They believe there are few coincidences and that almost every event has a reason." And though I hadn't expected it to be in my top 5, I am that person. But still I maintained that I didn't believe in God because to me, this was describing spirituality not religion or God.
And now I return to my initial thought about juju and all of those other words I would've used. Why I chose to use it is less important to me compared to what I concluded in those 7 minutes. If I believe that things somehow happen for a reason, if I believe that we are all connected in some way, isn't that what God is? I had fallen into the trap of so many before me, I was thinking of God like a person because my mind is limited in its understanding of what I've personally experienced. I use all of these words regularly as a substitute without truly thinking about how they are actually one in the same. So why, I asked myself, did it take me so long to figure this out? It's not the first time I've thought about God or religion and yet suddenly I've done a 180 with what I claim to believe. Nothing about me as a person has changed. Where did this realization come from?
I believe that things happen for a reason. I believe that I have experienced struggles because I needed to go in a different and better direction than the one I thought I was heading toward. I believe these things not because of any kind of religion but because while living through these experiences, if I didn't continuously remind myself that there was a purpose, I would've lost hope and allowed myself to be consumed by the darkness. I have seen the worst of humanity and the best of humanity, and if there was no point to either of those then why go through it at all? Would I be better off burying my head in the sand just waiting for something to change?
That's when it hit me. My second epiphany of a 7 minute walk. I believe in God but I don't believe in Prayer. I believe that we're connected and that there is a point and purpose to every life on this big blue marble. I believe that we are here to learn from one another and that we are impacted and have an impact on people we've known all our lives and those we shared only a passing glance with. Now this became a second dilemma because if there was any aspect of my religion that I truly felt connected to, it is prayer. When I do attend services, though less frequently than I'd like, I always leave feeling like I'm walking on air. The music fills me in a way that I can't begin to describe. The connection I feel with my surroundings, both human and natural, is beyond words.
But to me, Prayer is an excuse. Some people will choose simply to pray, to ask for something, to plead with a God that they believe will provide them with what they need. I believe we will receive what we need, but I also believe that we receive what we strive for. Without action, Prayer is useless. Yet so many will turn to Prayer when they believe action is not giving them what they so want. But since when do we actually know what we want, what is actually best for us? The best thing about Prayer is that it forces you to consider what it is that you want - so that you may act on it. For years, whenever something happened in my life, it didn't feel real until I told it to my family and friends. That act of saying out loud what had happened made me aware of the realness of the moment. It forced me to reconcile when things were difficult, and it allowed me to celebrate when things were joyous. But the conventional attitude towards Prayer is not appealing to me. It is unattractive because it has continued to make me view God as a person who controls me. I still love the traditions that go along with praying but I do not believe Prayer changes anything.
So if I reject the concept of Prayer, what is it about the act of praying that is so fulfilling? It can be spiritual sure, which is the only way I've identified with religion up to this point. It provides me with a community when I seek out a place to engage in Prayer. But most importantly to me, it brings me to people who I have commonalities with, people I feel a connection to. And that connection brings me back to SQ and the fact that while I have felt disengaged from the idea of God for decades, the spirituality that I feel when in a community that is praying together, that is what God means to me. It bring us together and whether you call that fate, destiny, chance, karma, luck, or something that's meant to be, I believe in that. And so I must believe in God.
It's been 6 minutes now and I'm turning a corner where I can see the sky. I have a special affinity for the sky, especially since I actively made the choice to make sure I'm always looking up (physically and metaphorically). And this brings me to my final minute of thought, this time about the soul. When I was a kid, I heard a song/story about the soul and it has stuck with me. It essentially says that our souls all come from the same place and when we pass on, it returns to this pool eventually becoming a part of someone else's soul. It also describes the soul as a kind of light that is in all of us, a divine spark that is what makes us unique. When I imagined the soul as light, that made sense to me. It was more than the haunting beauty of this song that I enjoyed, I now realize just how much my love of this song is related to the connectedness I feel and believe in.
Now it's been 7 minutes and I'm at my door but I need one more thought before I walk over the threshold and that the significance of the number of minutes I spent thinking, realizing, reconciling, and connecting. While I'm sure there are other religious numbers that are significant and though I'm sure I don't know all of them, I know that 7 is an important number for many reasons. And doesn't that make this realization even more lovely?
As I began my walk, I thought about a conversation I had earlier today about juju. I don't tend to use this word since my introduction to it was from "Grey's Anatomy" so I have no idea why I chose it but the fact was that it fit what I was trying to say. While debating what other words/phrases I could've used - fate, karma, destiny, meant to be, luck, chance - I had the most intense realization I think I've ever had. It hit me spontaneously and unexpectedly; similarly to what I experienced when I first realized I was "in love" and not just that I loved my then-boyfriend. But this realization had even more of an impact on me because this has been a dilemma I've had for years and something I firmly thought I knew the answer to.
I actually do believe in God.
And writing that, like thinking it, is more surreal than I can begin to explain. It wasn't even like, "I think I might", the thought came to me with clarity and finality. But it's not even this singular thought of realizing that I do believe in God, it's everything that goes along with it that consumed me for 7 minutes. Because up until that thought actually crossed my mind, ever since I became aware of my ability to process my relationship with my religion, I had maintained that I don't know if I believe in God. Or G-D which I think isn't quite the same thing. And by that I meant that I didn't believe we are SIMS and God holds the mouse. And yet I suddenly realized that I do believe in God, a thought that contradicts everything I thought I knew believed.
An elaboration.
I wouldn't say I'm a person of faith. I associate that label with people who can spout verse at the drop of a hat or who blindly follow because it's what they think they're supposed to do. I am neither. I frequently have to Google things that go above my basic Sunday School education and I have tried to learn the reasons behind holidays, traditions, etc. If I don't agree with them, I don't celebrate/follow them. And since my opinion often changes, my relationship with religion has continued to evolve over the last 7 years.
My senior year of college I took an assessment called StrengthsQuest. It essentially tells you things you already know about yourself but in a new kind of language. When I received my top 5 I wasn't surprised per se but hadn't thought those would be my top. I bring up SQ because my second word only after "Input" was "Connectedness". Here's how SQ describes people with this strength: "People who are especially talented in the Connectedness theme have faith in the links between all things. They believe there are few coincidences and that almost every event has a reason." And though I hadn't expected it to be in my top 5, I am that person. But still I maintained that I didn't believe in God because to me, this was describing spirituality not religion or God.
And now I return to my initial thought about juju and all of those other words I would've used. Why I chose to use it is less important to me compared to what I concluded in those 7 minutes. If I believe that things somehow happen for a reason, if I believe that we are all connected in some way, isn't that what God is? I had fallen into the trap of so many before me, I was thinking of God like a person because my mind is limited in its understanding of what I've personally experienced. I use all of these words regularly as a substitute without truly thinking about how they are actually one in the same. So why, I asked myself, did it take me so long to figure this out? It's not the first time I've thought about God or religion and yet suddenly I've done a 180 with what I claim to believe. Nothing about me as a person has changed. Where did this realization come from?
I believe that things happen for a reason. I believe that I have experienced struggles because I needed to go in a different and better direction than the one I thought I was heading toward. I believe these things not because of any kind of religion but because while living through these experiences, if I didn't continuously remind myself that there was a purpose, I would've lost hope and allowed myself to be consumed by the darkness. I have seen the worst of humanity and the best of humanity, and if there was no point to either of those then why go through it at all? Would I be better off burying my head in the sand just waiting for something to change?
That's when it hit me. My second epiphany of a 7 minute walk. I believe in God but I don't believe in Prayer. I believe that we're connected and that there is a point and purpose to every life on this big blue marble. I believe that we are here to learn from one another and that we are impacted and have an impact on people we've known all our lives and those we shared only a passing glance with. Now this became a second dilemma because if there was any aspect of my religion that I truly felt connected to, it is prayer. When I do attend services, though less frequently than I'd like, I always leave feeling like I'm walking on air. The music fills me in a way that I can't begin to describe. The connection I feel with my surroundings, both human and natural, is beyond words.
But to me, Prayer is an excuse. Some people will choose simply to pray, to ask for something, to plead with a God that they believe will provide them with what they need. I believe we will receive what we need, but I also believe that we receive what we strive for. Without action, Prayer is useless. Yet so many will turn to Prayer when they believe action is not giving them what they so want. But since when do we actually know what we want, what is actually best for us? The best thing about Prayer is that it forces you to consider what it is that you want - so that you may act on it. For years, whenever something happened in my life, it didn't feel real until I told it to my family and friends. That act of saying out loud what had happened made me aware of the realness of the moment. It forced me to reconcile when things were difficult, and it allowed me to celebrate when things were joyous. But the conventional attitude towards Prayer is not appealing to me. It is unattractive because it has continued to make me view God as a person who controls me. I still love the traditions that go along with praying but I do not believe Prayer changes anything.
So if I reject the concept of Prayer, what is it about the act of praying that is so fulfilling? It can be spiritual sure, which is the only way I've identified with religion up to this point. It provides me with a community when I seek out a place to engage in Prayer. But most importantly to me, it brings me to people who I have commonalities with, people I feel a connection to. And that connection brings me back to SQ and the fact that while I have felt disengaged from the idea of God for decades, the spirituality that I feel when in a community that is praying together, that is what God means to me. It bring us together and whether you call that fate, destiny, chance, karma, luck, or something that's meant to be, I believe in that. And so I must believe in God.
It's been 6 minutes now and I'm turning a corner where I can see the sky. I have a special affinity for the sky, especially since I actively made the choice to make sure I'm always looking up (physically and metaphorically). And this brings me to my final minute of thought, this time about the soul. When I was a kid, I heard a song/story about the soul and it has stuck with me. It essentially says that our souls all come from the same place and when we pass on, it returns to this pool eventually becoming a part of someone else's soul. It also describes the soul as a kind of light that is in all of us, a divine spark that is what makes us unique. When I imagined the soul as light, that made sense to me. It was more than the haunting beauty of this song that I enjoyed, I now realize just how much my love of this song is related to the connectedness I feel and believe in.
Now it's been 7 minutes and I'm at my door but I need one more thought before I walk over the threshold and that the significance of the number of minutes I spent thinking, realizing, reconciling, and connecting. While I'm sure there are other religious numbers that are significant and though I'm sure I don't know all of them, I know that 7 is an important number for many reasons. And doesn't that make this realization even more lovely?
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