Awakening: Adventures in Hinduism

You may or may not know this, but on Sunday I go to church. I spend, oh, up to 2 hours exploring whatever religious institution I've chosen for the day and then I go home and pretend it never happened. I don't spend much time thinking about it. I don't talk a lot about what I experienced. I don't make notes or write anything down. I go and then I put everything that happened in a box to open sometime on Monday when things are quiet at work. I've tried to write on Sundays, but I can't. I need a full day to process things. It's something I've learned about myself during this journey. So, when I'm writing, I'm Monday Sarah writing about Sunday Sarah's experiences. This hasn't created much of an issue....until today. You see, this week Monday Sarah is vastly different than Sunday Sarah.

Sunday Sarah:
Mood: Pleasant and positive
Weather: Sunshiny and gorgeous
Favorite Color: The orangey-red of the tulips growing in my neighborhood
Listening to: Kishi Bashi - Manchester
Activities: Church exploring, shopping, laying on a jelly lounger in the sunshine drinking wine, attending a fancy fundraiser and getting free booze, watching Christian Slater movies and swooning.
Motto: "Life is beautiful"

Monday Sarah:
Mood: Grouchy, irritable, weepy
Weather: Humid and raining
Favorite Color: The blackness of closed eyelids
Listening to: Screaming. Loud loud screaming.
Activities: Crying, doubling over in pain, cleaning spit off my leg, getting head banged in the chest repeatedly, feeling nauseous, staring off into space, sitting in the darkness
Motto: "Please kill me"

Funny how 24 hours can really change a person, eh?  And no, I'm not hungover.

With all that out in the open now....let us proceed.

This Sunday I journeyed to a far off place full of strange and unusual things - West St. Louis County (ba dum bum). Those of us (snobs) who proudly display their St. Louis CITY residences on their cars seldom journey to this far off place, but instead tease and torture people who do. There is a super hip store in the city that sells postcards, t-shirts and bumper stickers taunting County dwellers with fun sayings like "Friends don't let friends live in Chesterfield". I'm a city snob and proud to be. BUT I have to give the County it's due, because tucked away behind Whole Foods and rows of massive mansions is a remarkably beautiful and unusual building - The Hindu Temple of St. Louis.

I pulled into the parking lot on this exceptionally beautiful April Sunday morning and stood in awe of the intricate carvings covering the temple. I felt like I had stumbled into another world - like I had driven through some kind of portal and magically arrived in India. Much like someone who drove through a magical portal would be, I spent the rest of my time at the Hindu temple feeling incredibly confused and out of place but totally enthralled and excited.

Getting into the building was a challenge. There were dark rooms and stairs that led to nowhere. There were cars in the parking lot, but not a single person inside the building to tell me what to do. I stood in a hallway for a few minutes hoping someone would find me. A 10 year old boy came by and refused to speak to me - so I followed him, like a weirdo, until he told me what to do. He showed me a staircase and then ran away. A sign read "No video. No shoes". So, shoeless I walked up the stairs to yet another room devoid of people. I found myself in a large space where colorful deities rested silently in elaborately carved white wooden boxes. I stood in the doorway hoping someone, anyone, would come along and give me some clue as to what the hell was happening. Services are supposed to start at 9:00 am. It's 8:55! What the hell?

I thought seriously about leaving, but then finally a man in a white robe found me. "You're with the large group, yes?" he asked me in a quiet whispered voice. Um, I'm the only person here. What large group? "No, I came by myself." I whispered back as I smiled that humble smile that always gets me through any awkward situation. "Very good. Please, walk clockwise." was his reply and he handed me some information about the deities then pointed me in the direction of the where the Pooja (service) was being held.

Around the corner, I joined a man and a woman sitting quietly on the carpeted floor in front of the Sri Shiva shrine. Two robed men were preparing various materials and then seemingly out of nowhere one of them began to chant. Slowly, more and more people joined the service - bringing various offerings of fruits (bananas usually), jugs of milk and fresh flowers. Books of the chants were passed around, but seeing as how I am unable to read Sanskrit I just continued to sit quietly on the floor and tried to take it all in. While the group chanted one of the men performed a series of various rituals inside the shrine as offerings to the deity. He lit incense and candles, he rang bells, he poured water over the shrine, then milk, then butter, then honey, then alternated between milk and water and then bleach. This lasted for about 30 minutes and all the while we are chanting. Then the curtain of the shrine is closed and when it's reopened the flowers brought as offerings are revealed covering the shrine in a beautiful arrangement.

By this time there were about 30 people sitting in the small carpeted area chanting. My skin color and clothing style placed me in the minority - I was one of the few women not wearing a sari. Most of the men were in khakis and dress shirts, although a few had on robes. The chanting continued and then the group suddenly stood up. My legs were thrilled to no longer be in the crossed position. Then while chanting we turned in circles, clockwise of course, maybe 3 times. Don't ask me why. A man brought around a silver bowl of flowers. I watched as other people touched the bowl with both hands and then touched their faces. When it was my turn I did the same, again not knowing why. Napkins were then passed around. I took one, not knowing why. I watched other people accept a white liquid in their right hand, drink it and then clean their hands with the napkin. When it came my turn I cupped my left hand under my right just as everyone else had and drank what looked like milk with mangoes in it. It was delicious and sticky. Finally a flame was brought around and people gave money to cup their hands over the flame.

All this done to awaken the diety, but also to awaken the indwelling spirit - the god within.

You weren't allowed to take pictures. I snagged
this from their website.

After the service, I walked from shrine to shrine paying my respects to each of the deities. Each person near me had a different way of honoring the deity - adorning the shrine with flowers, offering money, leaving fruit, walking around the shrine, touching it in a special way, kneeling before it or doing a series of bows. Each person was different - but the meaning was the same. I just stood there. No need to pretend I have any deep connection with these deities, let alone any rituals or flowers to offer them. I looked at them and offered my respect for their beauty.

Hesitantly, I left the temple. I didn't want to go, but I didn't know what I would do if I stayed. I lingered in the parking lot for 20 minutes - taking pictures, walking around the building and watching people.

Back in the car I started on the path home, but found myself not wanting to go. So, I rolled down the windows and turned up the music and drove myself around St. Louis County taking in the sunshine and a feeling of freedom.

We must pause this blog for a breaking news story and an important realization...

While writing I learned, through facebook, of the bombing at The Boston Marathon. My heart sank, personally knowing someone running the race and having family members living in Boston. I felt sick and not just because of this horribly terrifying tragedy. I felt sick because of what I said earlier in the blog - the "please kill me" part. I could amend it and pretend I said something less awful. You wouldn't know any different, but the truth is that's what I went around thinking all day - "please kill me". I felt ashamed. True, I felt awful today. So awful I actually started crying. Still, that's no excuse. It's a horrible thing to say and today I was reminded of that. In hearing the news about Boston, something awoke in me - a reminder of how precious and uncertain life is. We seem to be getting these messages a lot lately. So, instead of moping around in pain and sorrow I took my ass outside and played soccer with my kids - teaching them how to knee the ball and hit it off their heads. We laughed. We got sweaty. It was awesome. Then we went to the garden and flipped over an old tree stump to examine all the amazingly disgusting creatures living underneath it. We took turns finding worms and tossing them into the garden boxes. My hands are still covered in dirt.

So, if you please, I would like to amend my Monday Sarah status...

Monday Sarah:
Mood: Grateful
Weather: Perfectly lovely
Favorite Color: The deep brown of the garden dirt
Listening to: The sounds of my children gleefully pulling a wagon full of weeds
Activities: Thinking about loved ones, reflecting on blessings, playing soccer, reading books, digging in the dirt, getting and giving hugs, being incredibly lucky, removing my foot from my mouth and my head from my ass
Motto: "This is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it" coupled with "The highest tribute to the dead is not grief but gratitude.”

I just don't even know what else to say.

 

Down the Rabbit Hole of Scientology

Alice started to her feet, for it flashed before her mind that she’d never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge. In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again. 
                             - from Lewis Carroll's book Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

Scientology is a vast wonderland of exciting possibilities, potentially hazardous choices, fascinating characters and unusual scenarios. Aliens? Pastlives? Secret messages in my brain? Untapped potential? Cure my asthma? Tell me more, Scientology. Tell me more.

You know what they say though... curiosity killed the cat lady. 

“Something” didn’t want me to go down this rabbit hole. So,it wasn’t surprising that my drive was stunted by a marathon blocking literally every possible route to The Church of Scientology. Screw you universe. I WILL go to church this morning! Even if I have to fucking walk there! And walk I did. With considerable effort and somewhat illegal driving procedures, I found entry to a gated community near enough to the church, parked in the street and me and my cowgirl boots hightailed it to church
.

This is the only pic I took of the church.

Out of breath, I explained, “I’m here for…I was going to attend your service and I have an…I have an appointment.” A very tall midtwenties man in a dress shirt and tie directed me to the service on the second floor of the building. The door was opened for me in silence by another shirt and tie twenty something. A group of 15 people were sitting in folding chairs while a man at a podium was speaking. He stopped when I entered the room, looked up at me and said,  “Welcome.Please join us. I will speak to you after the service.” One of the attendees pulled a chair over for me and I joined in on their worship service.

For those of you who are interested in knowing more about how Scientologists worship I will give you a breakdown of their very complicated service: 

1st: There is a reading of their core values. (I missed this) 

2nd: They either watch a video or read a passage

3rd: Service is now over

This particular Sunday a passage was read from a book by L. Ron Hubbard, the founder of Scientology, called The Way to Happiness. The leader talked about the first step in achieving happiness - taking care of yourself. This was broken into 5 parts - get care when you are ill, bathe, brush your teeth, eat well, get rest. These are the people I was afraid of? People who need to be reminded to brush their teeth?! Classic. Service lasted 15 minutes, although I missed 5 of them. Cream puffs and water were served after. I didn't eat or drink anything.  

After the service the real adventure began. I met up with Donna, the woman who called me every night for 5 days until I rescheduled my appointment for my personality evaluation. We sat down at a desk and she pulled up my results...

So, a few weeks ago I filled out a 200 question personality test on The Church of Scientology's website. They call it the Oxford Capacity Analysis (OCA) though it has no affiliation with Oxford University. Most non-Scientologists disagree with the tests credibility and consider it a tool used to manipulate people into thinking they need Scientology's services - mainly auditing, the process where you can correct some (or all) of your unfortunate personality traits. 

Donna read my results from a sheet of paper starting with the most troublesome points. My biggest problem? Irresponsibility. According to the OCA I am irresponsible, act without thought and blame others for my problems. This does not pair well with my crippling aggression - which pushes people away from me. I am ruled by my emotions and my mood can change rapidly. My actions are often irrational and a direct result of my overpowering emotions. This is part of the reason I am unable to maintain a (romantic) relationship. I am anxious and do not relax easily. I am too critical, which most people find obnoxious. I am social, but not social enough. I am empathetic, but not enough. I am happy, but not happy enough. 

Naturally, Scientology could help me with all of it. 

About these results - they aren't entirely wrong. I wouldn't classify myself as someone who is irresponsible. I have a job. I pay my bills on time. I bought tickets to Lollapalooza instead of spending that money getting my car fixed. I keep dirty dishes in the refrigerator. Okay maybe there is some truth to that one after all. I have a temper that is rather vicious, but for the most part I keep it under control, I think. My emotions definitely rule me. No argument there. Relationships make me bat shit crazy and I think it's just best for everyone if I remain single. I'm more anxious than I let on. I'm a habitual nail biter. I break into hives waiting to get my oil changed. I wouldn't use the word "critical". I would say "opinionated" and yes it drives my friends bonkers. As for social and empathetic - I feel okay there. Happy? Well, who doesn't want to be happier? 

Fair enough Donna, I've got some stuff to work on. Donna asked me questions about my relationship with my family, job satisfaction, sleeping routine, difficulty with anxiety or depression, socializing habits, etc. I knew she was trying to find a sensitive spot - something I desperately wanted to be different. But see, I know I have a lot of work on, but I rather like my life. I mean, I want thinner thighs, but there didn't seem to be anything Scientology could do about that. Or is there? 

Donna asked what brought me to church - what was I looking for? I responded with exactly what I put in my blog, "I'm looking for something. I'm looking for a better understanding of God, myself, the universe and it's people. I'm looking for more pieces to the puzzle. This may or may not be another one." 

According to Hubbard, Scientology offers the simplest and most accurate explanation for the meaning of human existence and contains within it a specific formula for helping humans reach their full potential. He says this in his book Dianetics which (don't judge me) I purchased. Well, I spent 2 hours conversing and watching films with a Scientologist and I've read several chapters of Dianetics and I can tell you that Scientology is anything but simple - it's globidiglook. Luckily, my recent church visits have greatly aided in my ability to interrpret and simplify globidiglook. This may be my greatest challenge yet, but I shall try.

Scientology Beliefs Break Down (wicka wicka):

1. Man is good and his (all male focused language. not surprising.) chief goal in life is to survive.
2. Man cannot reach his full potential because of something called The Reactive Brain. There are two parts of the brain - analytical and reactive. The reactive part of your brain stores all the bad things that have EVER happened to you and creates an "engram" out of them. Engrams contain negative thoughts, feelings, messages and even physical sensations. When we are presented with a situation similar to what caused our engram, our reactive mind is triggered and we behave irrationally in accordance with our engram. This is the cause of our suffering
3. In order to decode and clear these engrams we must go through a process called "auditing".
4. The process of auditing is different for every person but involves you (the pre-clear or patient) and an auditor. Together you delve deep into your earliest memories, maybe even tapping into your past lives, experiences in the womb, or alien remnants from 75 million years ago. The length of this process varies for every person, but is generally fairly extensive and ongoing.
5. Auditing has the ability to solve all your problems. ALL of them. Your relationship issues, your bi-polar, your asthma, your infertility, your homosexuality, your back pain, your social anxiety, your lack of business success, etc. It will increase your sense of smell, your sex life and your intelligence. Once you are "Clear" you are basically a super human full of infinite possibilities. The world is your oyster!

This is why Scientologists believe in "silent birthing", because babies are recording everything that's happening in their reactive mind. Your screaming out in pain is just one more thing they will have to deal with in their auditing sessions. There are specific regulations for how Scientologists raise their children - which most of us are at least a little familiar with thanks to Suri Cruise.

There's more. A lot more. The deeper your delve into Scientology the weirder it gets. Like a machine called the e-meter that can read your thoughts. Or signing a billion year contract to join their most elite group the Sea Org, a naval "academy" that does secret stuff on the ocean. But that's for the higher ups. Being a pre-clear, Donna and I didn't get into all that and just stuck with the basic 5 things I outlined for you.

I have to admit, I does sound kind of amazing. A magical cure for all your problems? Hmm...maybe I'm not actually bad at relationships. Maybe it's just my damn reactive mind. Maybe if I just go into a room with a stranger for a few hours a week I will be transformed into a responsible, calm, happily married woman gliding through life with ease and confidence. What if it's true? What if this is the key? There are a lot of really pretty Scientologists who seem really happy and successful. John Travolta. Jenna Elfman. Leah Remini. Jason Lee. Erika Christensen. Are they on to something?

Donna pointed out that there are a lot of similarities between Scientology and Hinduism. Hubbard also draws comparisons between his theories and the concepts discussed in Buddhism. Accessing a higher plain of existence through the mind is not a new concept. I believe our minds do store information that we are not always aware of. I believe infants have memories of the things that happen to them, because I've seen it in my work. I don't necessarily believe they can conjure up images of their father screaming while they were in the womb, but I think the experience is in there somewhere. And I believe our minds are capable of more than we are currently using them for.

There's only one part of Scientology that greatly troubles me...and it's not the aliens or past lives...it's the money. Money. Money. Money. Buddhists don't really want your money in order to help you achieve enlightenment. In fact, they want you to give it all away and just focus on the basics. In Scientology reaching a higher plain of existence involves reaching deep into your pocket book. OR if you can't pay - you pay them with your devout servanthood. They give you a new understanding of yourself, but you no longer belong to yourself. Ahh...yes. This is where I climb back out of the rabbit hole. I'm simply too poor to be a Scientologist and I'm far too independent to be anyone's servant.

There's one other part that raises my eyebrows - this belief that we are all created with a part ourselves that is dysfunctional. I know we all have various abilities and disabilities, but this is saying something different. This is saying we were all created wrong and must overcome our wrongness to achieve true happiness. We are a flawed design. Are we? Christians say something similar. God created us in his image, yet we are sinners and must accept Jesus in order to overcome our imperfection. Are we born flawed? Are we born perfect? I don't feel perfect. I feel flawed, but perfectly flawed. Though I think our flaws are purposeful and are meant to help us along our journey in this life. See, I'm amazing just the way I am. Bruno Mars says so. So, can't I find God, achieve enlightenment, or become clear on my own? Do I not have that power within me? Why do I need your help?


Also, how does my brain remember things from a past life? My brain is a physical thing. My brain will die with my body. So, the mind transfers from human body to human body? Or is it a soul? I can feel myself falling down another rabbit hole. This journey is a series of various rabbit holes filled with adventures that confuse and exhaust me and change my perceptions of everything yet somehow nothing changes.

I've been reading too much Hubbard. This is exactly how he writes. In globidiglook.



This may not have been what you were expecting when you heard I went to a Scientology church. Welcome to the party. Leave your expectations at the door.

I had a very pleasant experience. Donna was incredibly kind and honest and open. She answered all my questions gently and candidly - even when I asked about rumors that Scientology was a cult. It wasn't scary. I never felt unsafe. She didn't pressure me to do anything. And as of right now, she hasn't hounded me with phone calls....but I know the calls are coming. I enjoyed myself. I love talking about this stuff, even though it exhausts me. This experience illustrated a code I live by - You'll never know until you try it out for yourself.

I Spent Easter at IHOP

When I was a freshmen in college each Friday night I would carefully pick out an elaborate and ill fitting costume (Disco sailor bell bottomed halter top pantsuit, white full length gloves and a blue wig. Every weekend something new. I went all out), adorn myself in glitter and eye jewels and head out alone to the town's local gay discotheque, Martha's Vineyard. Being too young to drink at the time I would stand around and smoke cigarettes and search out interesting people. It didn't take long before a group of young and fabulous gay boys took me under their fairy wings. Each Friday (and then sometimes again on Saturday) we would dance in a cloud of cologne and cigarette smoke until the wee hours of the morning and then take our sweaty selves over to IHOP for some delicious late-night replenishment. Often people question why I, a woman who does not identify as gay, would choose to spend her time in mostly gay company. Well, when I was all alone and felt very weird the gays took me by the hand, twirled me around the dance floor, told me I was gorgeous and fed me pancakes. 'Nuff said. Got nothing but love, respect and gratitude for my gay brothers and sisters. Marriage equality for all!!!

So, that was kind of a sidebar story that really barely connects with my Sunday church experience other than the fact that I indeed went to IHOP.  Only, tragically, this IHOP didn't serve pancakes. See, I went to a slightly different international house on Sunday - the International House of Prayer.

 

Yup. This church was in a Christian shopping mall next to Higher Grounds coffee shop and Glad Heart Realty (both owned by IHOP).  

 

Once again I found myself in Kansas City. It was my soul sister Hannah's 30th birthday and we enjoyed a weekend of day hiking, fireside giggling, face painting, mayonnaise based salads, glow stick dance parties and French 75s. It was magical. For Easter Sunday I wanted to attend a Christian service, but not a denomination of Christianity I had already visited. I also wanted some place not too far from where I was staying. But most of all I wanted to attend a service with lots and lots of music. Music has really been lacking in the services I've attended so far. I need more music!

 

Be careful what you ask for.

 

I hit up my Facebook friends for good church suggestions and then completely ignored them when I stumbled upon the website for an unusual church called the International House of Prayer which featured a prayer room that was open 24/7. I'm a sucker for something different. Sometimes when it's quiet at work I google "weirdest religions/churches in the United States" and am always amazed by the various religious gatherings that exist across our fine country. I'd never heard of IHOP before, so my interest was peaked. I asked my KC ladies what they knew about it - "it's got a reputation for being cult like", "a girl was raped there" "it's ginormous" "they own half that area of town".

 

I pay very little attention to what other people think and chose to make up my own mind about things. People say homosexuality is a sin - I disagree. People say smoking marijuana is wrong - I disagree. People say you shouldn't wear navy and black together or red and pink - I disagree. People say you shouldn't drink wine for breakfast - I disagree. I follow my heart and do what I think is right for me regardless of what others say. And my heart was rather excited see what this IHOP place was all about.

 

So, without doing any further research on IHOP, on Sunday morning I threw on my favorite red polka dotted sundress and mustard yellow cardigan and headed out on my church adventure. I had no idea what to expect, but I should have, because I got exactly what I asked for. Sometimes I can almost hear God/the universe cracking up at my expense - "(hehehe) Sarah. (hehe) You precious idiot. (hehehe)."

 

The service was nothing but a band singing the Bible. There is no sermon. No announcements. No meet and greet your neighbor. Nope, the whole service was music - expect for when this 20 something girl in leopard flats would close her eyes tight and whisper key lines into a microphone - "(whispered serious voice) You are holy." - over the bands boisterous singing. And when I say they were "singing the Bible" I mean it literally. They didn't have song sheets. They opened their Bibles to a particular passage, created a basic melody and then had a Bible jam session. They told Bible stories in song! I listened to the Easter story in song. Sometimes, they would nod at each other and one of the singers would create a 3 or 4 line repeatable chorus that would then be typed up on the TV screens and sung over and over with growing gusto and added harmony

 

Example:

This is not a picture of a helpless man

You could have stopped it any time you wanted

You endured the pain because you love me

Thank you, Jesus. You are holy.

(it frequently didn't rhyme or really make sense, but then again, it was made up on the spot)

Whispering microphone girl not pictured.

 This goes on all day, every day. Well, except Friday and Saturdays from 6-10 pm. Otherwise the Global Prayer Room at The International House of Prayer is open all the time and the music never stops. Musicians perform in 2 hour shifts and while the bands change out a small group of musicians plays until the new band is ready to go. It's free and (obviously) open to the public. I went around 8:30 and stayed till about 10:00. The audience was small - only about 50 people in a room made for 600. Most of the people were bowing in prayer, or kneeling in prayer, or walking with their hands in the air in prayer, or working on their computer in prayer, or lying on the floor crying in prayer, or relaxed on a chair sleeping in prayer. I didn't really know what to do. So, I sat in my chair and watched the band and didn't pray at all. I just didn't feel like it. I just kind of zoned out and sometimes I giggled.

This girl was praying with her hands in the air. Classic.

 

I doubt it would surprise you to find out that IHOP is an evangelical charismatic Christian missions organization. I doubt it would surprise you that on their "Information" wall I found a sheet titled "Jesus' Battle Plan for the End of the World". I doubt it would surprise you that there is a large following of 20 somethings at this church - about 1,000. I doubt it would surprise you that there is A LOT of controversy surrounding this church. It might surprise you that their "Prayer Room Guidelines" tell you exactly how to properly "lay hands" on someone - apparently rubbing is inappropriate. You learn something new every day.

 

You know, I was really kind of hoping for a "moving" Easter experience. It's not a holiday I've ever felt any connection to. I just don't buy the whole Jesus died on the cross and all of the sins of every person ever were magical transferred onto his body and now when we die we are able to live in a magical cloud land where the streets are flowing with milk and honey. The Bible is so full of symbolism, maybe Jesus' story was meant to be symbolic too, because literally it just doesn't seem feasible. I kind of want someone to try and explain it to me in a way that makes logical sense, but I'm pretty sure that's impossible.

 

This Sunday wasn't the experience I wanted, but it was the experience I went looking for. That happens sometimes - you want one thing, but you are obviously seeking out another. Life is hard. I mess up a lot. But then again, I'm glad I ended up at IHOP. I didn't get any special signs from God or have any major epiphanies and that was kind of nice. It was just a service. It was weird. It didn't really speak to me, but there are worse ways to spend an hour and a half.

 

After service, I attended an Easter Brunch at my friend Camille's house. Guess what she served? Pancakes. Perfect! Then I drove 4 hours home and was totally exhausted. I looked like a zombie. Many non-Christian's refer to Easter as Zombie Day (Jesus rises from the dead - get it?) So, in honor of my secular friends here is a super flattering picture of Zombie Sarah risen from 5 hours of sleep and grumpy after a long weekend of fun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scientology, Snow and Signs

Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans. 
                           - John Lennon (and probably lots of other people.) 


On Tuesday I filled out a personality test on the Church of Scientology's website. A few hours later a woman called me to schedule a time to come in and talk about my results. We decided on a Sunday morning so I could attend their worship service after my evaluation.

Commence anxiety.

Usually, I'm calm as a bluejay about attending new churches. I actually get kind of excited. Oooo...what will I wear? Who will I meet? Will something magical happen? What will I write? I get a bit nervous about not knowing what to do or where to go, but if there's one thing you can say about Sarah Thomas it's that she's not afraid to make a fool of herself.

This week was different - not the fool part, the calm part.

Over the week I got messages and phone calls and looks from concerned friends and family. I wanted to be fully prepared for the experience so I did some internet reading on the Church of Scientology. You know how when you have a strange spot on your body and you research it on the internet and all you read about is how that spot is a cancerous tumor and you are probably seconds away from death? Yeah, that's what it was like researching Scientology. Except usually that spot you're worried about turns out to be a weird sun reaction or chocolate caked on your body whereas I was fairly certain my visit to the Scientology church would be EXACTLY like the internet said it would be if not significantly worse. I was scared.

So, I waited for God to send me a sign.

On Sunday morning I rose with the determination of a solider marching into war - brave but scared shitless. I checked the weather - a large snow storm was moving into the St. Louis area. I figured if the snow was light in the morning I could still make it. I showered, even washed my hair, and picked out an outfit that made me feel confident and pretty. I looked out the window to see how hard the snow was falling. I'm doing this. I adorned myself with love - a ring from my Nana, a clover necklace from my Grandma Terry, a purple glass bead I'm fond of, new earrings that were sparkly and the silver rings my parents gave me. These things will protect me. 

It was sleeting when I walked to my car. The streets were white and my car was covered in snow and ice. I'm doing this. For the past 5 years I've been meaning to buy an ice scraper, but naturally haven't because that would just be too simple. No instead, I prefer to use a CD case or trash from my car or my hands. Once the car was mostly clean I put the keys in the ignition, turned on NPR and pulled into the street. I'm doing this. I drove down the block before I could feel my wheels spinning on the pavement. Yup, I'm not doing this. I drove myself right back home. If one of the 6 biggest snow storms in St. Louis's history happens in the Spring on the Sunday you were planning on visiting a Scientology church it is most likely a sign that you should park your car and get your butt back inside.

Don't get me wrong. I don't think God would inconvenience all of St. Louis Metro just to prevent me from going to church. I'm not that special. When I say "God sends me signs" I'm not talking about a white robed "man" on a throne in "heaven" waving his "magical" scepter over my life in an effort to "guide" me toward the "right path". I believe God is something inside us and all around us that we can choose to ignore or acknowledge. So when I say "God sent me a sign" I partially mean I sent myself a sign and I partially mean the universe/God sent me a sign and I chose to acknowledge it and act accordingly.

So, I didn't go to church on Sunday. That's 2 Sundays I've missed church because of bloody snow. I'll admit I was a little relieved. I took off my church clothes and threw on my sweats and sat in my comfy chair and drank a wine called Lazy Bones and ate chips and salsa and watched church on TV.

Ahh, yes. Church on TV with the famous Joel Osteen. What a treat! Joel Osteen is a super smiley pastor with a GINORMOUS Christian church in Texas that has televised services on Sunday. At the beginning of every service he has the stadium sized congregation raise their Bibles and say, "This is my Bible. I am what it says I am. I have what it says I have. I can do what it says I can do..." It goes on. It's long. I don't want to type it all out. Google it. When people get all serious about the Bible and use it to justify actions I get a little nervous. The Bible is full of very interesting stories and guidelines for navigating this world, but it's also full of crazy shit like women shouldn't braid their hair and various circumstances for when it's okay to kill someone. Joel didn't go into that during this particular Sunday service. Nope. Guess what Mr. Osteen was preaching about this Sunday???

Watching for signs from God.

Now, isn't that something?

He spoke about the small ways God speaks to us. He talked about the voice inside your head that tells you what to do being the Holy Spirit guiding you (Wait? Did Joel Osteen just admit that God is inside of us?). He talked about the tasks God puts before you as small tests. He talked about how the signs are there for you to ignore or acknowledge and that happiness is yours for the taking or the leaving.

How very fitting. How very fitting indeed. It was like a confirmation e-mail saying my decision was the right one and my happiness would be on it's way shortly.

As for visiting the Scientologists - I want to try again. This is where reading the signs is tricky. So, was I just not supposed to go THIS Sunday or any Sunday ever? See, I don't know. I wonder if maybe I should skip the personality assessment - being alone in a room with someone trying to convince you to join a cult is kinda scary. Maybe I should just attend their worship service? Maybe I wasn't strong enough this week? Maybe I'm supposed to wait for a Sunday where I'm feeling super confident and assertive? I don't know, but my guess is there will be a sign.


Who knows where I'll be next week. It is Easter Sunday. You know, I think I'll stop telling people my plans.

Signs, Signs, Everywhere a Sign: The Ethical Society

Sunday is my day of devotion.
And not just the part of the day I spend at church.
No, the whole day.
I have chosen this day as the day I will:
Watch carefully for signs
Be open to new things
Have an adventure
Listen closely
Wait patiently
Look for God
Stick to the plan but follow my heart

And every Sunday, without fail, there are signs. EVERYWHERE. Every Sunday, without fail, there are lessons and adventures. Every Sunday, without fail, I find a connection to God. Every Sunday, without fail, my understanding of God, myself, you, the universe, and this journey changes.

I listen to NPR because I'm intelligent and kind of a hipster and nerdy and enjoy the soothing deep voices that are drawn to radio talk shows. During my Sunday drive after church a man, with a lovely voice, was talking about traveling and pilgrimages. He said people often embark on a pilgrimage when they are trying to get over something painful and want to find something good. He said on a pilgrimage people take a journey that often involves religious exploration and placing yourself outside of your comfort zone. Oh, kind and faithful readers, your humble narrator had a moment of insight and clarity. Most Sundays I rise and question what the hell I'm doing and why. I've called it a "journey". I've said I'm "searching for something". But it wasn't until this moment that I was given a word that fully describes what this is really about. I am on a pilgrimage.

I stole this pic. I couldn't capture the true beauty of these rainbow
windows. Plus it wasn't sunny enough. Pretty place, eh?

On this rainy St. Patrick's Day I found a treasure at the end of the rainbow...The Ethical Society of St. Louis. A church with rainbow windows? I'm sold.

I'm all about holiday spirit, so naturally I wore my green and white polka dot dress to church along with my cowgirl boots and black cardigan. Due to the rain, I was sporting my oh-so-chic Gilda Radner hair. I found my way to the visitors table. Most places have some little section where visitors can get information and meet someone who will answer their questions, etc. A lady asked me to fill out a name tag. As always, I smiled, wrote down my name and then hid the badge in my purse as soon as she was out of view. I was given an envelope of visitors information which was perfect because I neglected to do any research about The Ethical Society. Now I had 10 minutes to educate myself.

The Ethical Society of St. Louis. Cool building.

What I Learned About The Ethical Society During The 10 Minutes Before The Service Started:

1. Ethics is the religion of The Ethical Society.
2. The Ethical Society is affiliated with Ethical Humanism, but welcomes all religious backgrounds including atheists.  
3. They believe in the worth and dignity and uniqueness of all persons. (We are all special snowflakes)
4. They believe we are all part of the earth and therefore must cherish it and all life on it. (Lots of vegetarians and vegans.)
5. They believe in the freedom to choose and question.
6. They believe in interrelatedness. We are all connected.
7. The Ethical Society/Ethical Humanism in nontheistic, but that doesn't necessarily mean members don't believe in "God". The believe in an ethical "God"? Hmm....

Okay. Service is starting.

Sidebar 1: I love signs. Love em. I'm always looking for signs, reading the signs and piecing the signs together to try to unlock the mystery of what the universe is telling me. Seriously. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I believe this crap with all my heart. It's exhausting, because signs are really confusing and easy to miss and easier to misinterpret. I chose my grad school because of a sign. I fell in love because of a sign. I started this journey because of a sign. It's deep, people.

Sidebar 2: I visited The Ethical Society before. When I was in grad school I did an internship at That Uppity Theatre Company (weirdest summer of my life - musical numbers about slavery, maybe slightly inappropriate lap dancing with a very kind disabled man and dealing with things way beyond my maturity level.) and the director was given an award from The Ethical Society so I attended her ceremony.

Anyhoo...

Okay, service. It's started. A group of people got up on stage and led us in a song, but a song unlike any song you've probably ever sung at a church service. It's called "The Rain Song". You use your voice and body to create the sounds of a rainstorm - blowing, snapping, clapping, slapping your legs, jumping, etc. It's one of the things we taught the Missouri School for the Blind children when I was interning at That Uppity Theatre Company. Yup, that's some kind of sign, though I have no idea what it means. The song was a blast though. Little old ladies howling like wind, stomping their feet and prancing around like monkeys - at the end animals come out because the rain is over. Everyone was laughing. It was sweet.

This picture doesn't do it justice.

Have you ever seen geese fly in a V across the sky? It's amazing. One time I was coming home from a crap day at work and saw literally hundreds of geese in multiple V formations flying across the sky. It was breathtaking. It was also a sign.

After our rain song a woman got up and talked about why geese fly in formation. The uplift from the V creates a benefit for the birds behind one another and they can fly up to 71% faster than when they fly alone. When the leader gets tired another goose comes to take her place. The geese in the back honk continuously to encourage the ones up front to keep going. If something happens to a goose, sickness or injury, two geese fly down with her to keep her safe or wait with her until she dies. Then they rejoin the group - leading, trading places, and encouragingly honking until they reach their destination together.

That's the power of working together. That's the power of friendship. That's the power of nature. That's the power of love. (Cue Hewy Lewis song).

Nature gets this stuff. I can picture sitting and having a smoke with a very intelligent goose and her just being like, "Duh, Sarah. We all want to get somewhere warm. Why not help each other out? It's not rocket science." We are part of nature too. Why can't we tap into our collective power the way Geese do?



Service continued with a classic looking professor - silver ponytail, mismatched outfit, comfy shoes, flask in pocket (seriously) - who gave a talk on war. Of course, geese help each other. We kill each other. Way to go people! Hooray humanity! His talk was very intellectual and mentioned a lot of historical facts about war that I must admit I was not familiar with. My mind was still in Gooseland.

 



This is the ceiling of the auditorium. Isn't it beautiful?

The group that did the rain song, Occupy Ethical, got up and did a very cool drum song. I really enjoy drums. I've wanted to find a good drum circle. Sometimes at work I will start making beats and my kids will come along and create complimenting ones or bust out raps. After one such moment my kid turned to me and in all seriousness said, "Sweet jam session Ms. Sarah." Kids. During the drumming they took a collection for a charity. Guess what charity would be receiving the money from that offering? That Uppity Theatre Company. Why was I being reminded of that bizarre experience that I seldom like to talk about???

Ah, yes. Ladies and gentlemen, now I remember. Geese. Uppity. Interrelatedness.

During that time, I cut off all my loved ones. I barely spoke to my friends and when I did I was angry with them. I was angry because they didn't understand how difficult things were for me. They didn't understand, because I didn't tell them. I was flying solo. Well, trying to. And it was fucking awful.

 

Needing other people scares me. The one thing I prize most about myself is my independence. Though I suppose there's only so much you can accomplish on your own. Sometimes you need someone to give you a little lift. I'm lucky to have an expansive formation of family and friends backing me up. I just need to be honest about when I'm tired of carrying it on my own and need the gaggle to give me a little assistance.


Service ended with handshakes and introductions. Everyone was very friendly. I noticed one of the clerks from Target was a member. Yup, I frequent Target so often I know the staff. I spoke briefly with a few people, but had lunch plans and had to skedaddle.

After lunch I called up my dear friend Rebecca and explained that I was in bad need of fun and company. We watched The Craft and ate chocolate and drank wine and talked and laughed and I got some place sunnier much faster than I would have all on my own.

Um, so...I have this friend Kon and we sometimes make silly videos for each other. It's a fun thing to do. So, well, I made her this video of a puppet singing "Thank You For Being A Friend", you know, The Golden Girls theme (but actually an Andrew Gold song from the 70s). It's ridiculous, but so am I. I thought I'd share it, because 1. It's good for a laugh and 2. It's my small acknowledgment to all of you who have lifted me up during this journey and all the journeys before. Thanks friends. Enjoy this very random gem!

 

I like the Humanist perspective and I enjoyed their service. I like the concept of living by ethical standards, treating people with dignity, valuing the earth, learning from each other and putting a focus on building relationships with people. I agree with all of that, but there was something missing from the service for me personally. I can only describe it as God.

TTFN. Ta-Ta For Now. ♥ (that's from Winnie the Pooh by the way)

Buddhism 2.0 - This Time I Brought Socks

To the Blessed One,
The One Gone Beyond,
The Fully Awakened One,
The Great Physician,
The Supreme Teacher

You came to this earth
And through your own efforts
You obtained the Awakened state
Overcoming all suffering and distress.

Through your great compassion
You showed us the path to liberation
You taught us the merit of compassion, wisdom and equanimity.
To you, the Glorious Teacher, I prostrate.
                                            - from the Supplication To Buddha


How fast can you chant "equanimity"?  Not fast enough friend. Not fast enough.

There was A LOT of chanting at the Rime Buddhist Center in Kansas City. I spent the weekend in KCMO for a reason I will discuss later in the blog. My dear friends Kon and Lacey live here and happen to attend a Tibetan Buddhist service, so I tagged along. Since this was my second go at a Buddhist service, I felt much more prepared - i.e. I brought socks. Go Sarah Go!

The Rime Center is much bigger than the quaint Zen Center I attended last week. It looks like a more traditional church from the outside with bright red double doors that open to a table filled with candles for lighting. Down a long hallway where you take off your shoes and coats there is various information on new members and Tibetan needs and upcoming classes, etc. You turn a corner and enter the "shrine room" an expansive colorful space where flags drape from the ceiling and posters of the Dali Lama are hung. Past the sea of deep red floor cushions is a bright shrine radiating with gold statues and elaborate drawings of deities. Dressed in a tan and red dress with my favorite navy polka dot cardigan and bright blue belt I found a cushion along with my church posse - Lacey and her fabulous mom Sheila - and we read through the multi-page service instructions as we prepared for our experience.

There is a considerable amount of pageantry involved in this particular Tibetan Buddhist service. Seemingly out of no where speakers hanging above the room boom out this loud tuba and drum music as the preceptors enter the room.  It's slightly ominous and a little scary. We all stand and bow with hands at heart center. Then comes the chanting. Rapid paced monotone chanting led by a stereotypical I.T. looking guy wearing a robe who seems to be bored with the whole chanting process. I couldn't keep up. There were some big words!

Many of the chants are repeated several times and followed by a 10 minute mediation. Chant chant chant. Now sit in silence. Chant chant chant. Now sit in silence. I became aware of something during the second mediation - a growing anger. I tried to do my yoga breathing. In with the good. Out with the bad. Breathe in peace. Breathe out unrest.  Didn't work. I was angry about something. I thought about several things that were irritating me in my life at that moment - and trust me there's plenty - but none of them explained this new angry sensation that was taking over my Buddhist service experience. I didn't know what was bothering me! Not yet.

My anger made me irritable and unable to concentrate. I kept my eyes open during mediation and just stared at the wall. I was tired of all the fast chanting and quiet sitting. My legs were cramping. Then we sang a chant song. It was simple, slow and repetitive. I liked that. I closed my eyes and visualized Tara floating above me and sending me her light rays just as my instruction book told me to. It was nice. I felt good. The song chant ended and so did my good feelings. I turned the page of my service instructions to see that coming up is a chant we get to repeat....wait for it....108 times. 108 times?!?! Holy hell. You have got to be kidding me. I'm ready for this to be over.

It almost was.

After the excessive chanting sequence we had our Dharma Talk. A lady, a professor, sat in a chair and talked about things. Honestly, I didn't listen much. I seldom do. I was exhausted and I don't like being talked at. I much prefer the conversational method of Dharma like at the Zen Center. However, she did say something that caught my ear. It was about controlling your emotions. Timely, right. She had a three step method for dealing with your emotions. 1. Recognize your feelings without judgement. 2. Hold your heart and feel your feelings. Emotions will only last ninety seconds unless you feed them. 3. Leap into the next activity with an open heart and mind.

Huh. Interesting. Don't feed your emotions and they will only last for ninety seconds? Really? So, I shouldn't drown my sorrows in cake and booze? Is that feeding them? But my emotions get hungry! What about screaming horrible things at people when I'm angry? That's okay, right? Storming out of the room? Crying hysterically? Being really self destructive? Threatening physical violence?

I'm starting to think maybe I'm not in control of my emotions.

Then the universe gave me a little test...

After the service we walked outside. Lacey turns to me, "Did you get Hannah's text? The show is postponed." The universe cancelled the Alabama Shakes concert. The whole reason I was in Kansas City. The massive snow in Denver delayed their travel and the show was moved to Monday night. I had to be at work Tuesday morning in St. Louis. I wouldn't get to see them. I wouldn't get to have a life changing music experience. I wouldn't get to rock out to some sweet soulful tunes (great band. check em' out) with my best friends and make memories that would last a lifetime.

Mother fucker.

 I was furious. I was enraged. I was massively disappointed. I felt like crying. I felt like screaming. I felt like falling down on the pavement and kicking and yelling and throwing things until the universe changed it's mind and gave me what I wanted!! I know this is a small problem and doesn't really matter in the scheme of things but I really really really wanted to go to the show!

I stomped around outside and then remembered the lesson for the professor lady. Emotions only last 90 seconds unless you feed them. Sheila said I was feeding them. I pretty sure I yelled something profane at my dear friend's mother. I don't really remember. I was in angry Sarah mode. Yup. I'm not in control of my emotions. Not at all.

So, I thought about the 3 steps. I took a breath and realized that I was feeling angry and disappointed. I held my heart and without judgement accepted my feelings. I sat with my feelings, my angry angry feelings. Then I leaped into the next thing with an open heart - two gins on the rocks with limes and a soda straw and a giant grilled cheese sandwich. Okay, so I did end up feeding my emotions. But goddamnit, feelings are delicious! I'm going to work on it.

I did feel better. I had some laughs with my friends and we made alternate plans for the evening that involved more booze and cheese dip and good times. I accepted that I just wasn't meant to see Alabama Shakes that night. It wasn't meant to be. Sigh. I don't like when I can't get what I want, but throwing a massive tantrum and saying awful things wasn't going to make Alabama Shakes magically appear. Nor was obsessing over it and letting it ruin my whole night. I do that sometimes. Seriously, I get really worked up about silly stuff. I have a hard time letting things go. My emotions rule me. I am their slave. They make me do awful awful things sometimes. I've consumed whole cakes at my emotions demand. I've threatened to brutally murder people I love. These days must end.

I'm not a fan of all the pageantry and chanting and deities and gold statues and elaborate bending sequences involved in Buddhism. But I think they are on to something with this whole - controlling your emotions is part of the key to enlightenment thing. That makes sense to me. Think I might give it a try. Controlling my emotions, not Buddhism.



I will leave you with a little sampling of the brilliance of Alabama Shakes. I'll just have to Hold On until I can see her sing this live...

moo.

Hello Moon! Experiencing the Zen Center

Only a fool looks at the finger that points to the moon.




 "Shit! Ugh. Facebook is being stupid." says the monk siting on a cushion, draped in a red robe  and fumbling with his iPad while trying to read the group a passage for our discussion time. It was quite amusing. Though, it doesn't shock me that a Buddhist monk would have a Facebook account, struggle with road rage, use curse words and talk about having great sex. I realised long ago that religious leaders are actually just human beings, but I enjoyed the reminder.

This is the Bo Kwang Zen Center. Ta-da!

The Bo Kwang Zen Center is a Zen Buddhist temple that's part of the Taego Order of Korean Zen - and no, I have no idea what that means. It's also a house.  Just a regular ol' house in a little neighborhood across the park from my apartment. The space is small and can't accommodate many, which worked out well, because there were only 5 people in attendance including me and the leader.

Usually I do some research on the "church" I'm visiting and their core beliefs, basic information, etc, but this week I spent all my time just trying to find a Buddhist temple that 1 - had a service on Sunday and 2 - didn't start at 6:00 am. So, I ended up at Bo Kwang without any knowledge of what the hell I would be doing there.

I did know I was supposed to bring socks. So naturally I forgot them. Classic Sarah. I was also supposed to dress in simple colors "as not to distract". This was a challenge. I only wore 2 colors - fuchsia and black. I felt so plain. I entered the building, took of my shoes, exposed my bare feet, and stood there awkwardly while 3 men talked about stuff. I wasn't paying attention to what they were saying. I was frozen in awkwardness. This is awkward. There's only 3 other people here. It's so small. God, there's nothing to look at on the wall so I can't even pretend I'm busy. I don't know what to do with my hands! I guess I'll just stand here looking like a weirdo staring off into space and say nothing. Yup. That's what I'm doing. A few minutes later I was invited to sit on my mat and cushion and they realized it was my first time and I was a stranger and were very warm and welcoming. Introductions were made and the service was explained briefly.

I stole this from the website. My experience looked the same.
Same monk. Different day.

With incense burning Hae Won Sunim, the monk leading the service, struck a wooden fish with a stick to keep rhythm and began the melodic Korean chanting. We kneeled. We bowed. We stayed bowed. We stood up. We stayed stood up. And then we did it all over again several times while 2 of the 5 people in the room recited the traditional Korean chant. It all felt kind of silly. But it was new and different and exciting and it wasn't another boring sermon about Jesus - so I loved it.

After the chanting we had a 25 minute silent meditation. I tried to clear my mind and focus on nothing. My brain has been absolute mush lately. Seriously, it's like jell-o. I can't form coherent thoughts. My feelings are out of control. I feel weird. Weirder than usual. So, I tried to take a break from it all. I once took philosophy class where the instructor had us count from 1 to 10 and any time you had a thought you had to start over again. It's impossible. Thinking about nothing is impossible! My brain kept churning out weird unnecessary thoughts and I couldn't make it stop. Suddenly, Hae Won Sunim made a very alarming sound with the sticks (I jumped) and mediation was over. I was relieved. Is there a pill that turns off your brain? Cause I want it. Now.

Time for tea! Hooray!

Yes. Tea and talk time! When I'm not drinking booze, I'm drinking tea. I love tea. I'm drinking green tea right now. And talking is one of my all time favorite things to do. It's my chance to drain some of the thoughts swimming in my head. Oh, I love to talk - especially about religion. These people were incredibly intelligent and insightful. So much so that I worried I wasn't smart enough to share my feelings - but of course I did anyway. Sharing feelings is my favorite!

Thoughts/Ideas/Things That Were Presented During "Tea and Talk" That I Found Particularly Interesting (yeah, i love lists, less than tea and talking, but still it's up there.)

* The man sitting next to me offered an idea I enjoyed. He commented on how trees mimic lungs in their appearance and actions. When I got home I sat outside my apartment and stared at the trees noticing how their branches indeed looked like the branches in the lungs. Both givers of air. Mind = blown.

* Dependent Origination. Do you know about this? I didn't. Look it up. Basically, it's about how everything is connected - nothing is separate - nature, us, the universe, all of it. And because we are all connected we all effect (with an "e" or an "a"? i never know!) each other. There's a lot more to this. I had never heard of this specific term, though I've always believed we were all connected.

* Hae Won Sunim talked about God and the beginning of creation. If in the beginning there was only God then what did God use to create all the things? If there was nothing but God, then everything was created of God. Everything is God. Everything is connected because everything is ONE thing - God.

*You are the only one who understands your mind. No one can alter what goes on in there, except you. (No kidding. Does this discount my whole profession? Let's hope not. Actually, I don't really care if it does.)

* We talked about direct experience. Hae Won Sunim read a passage about Buddha talking with another dude from the book Old Path White Clouds by Thich Nhat Hanh (read off his iPad). There were two parts I connected with:

 My goal is not to explain the universe, but to help guide others to have a direct experience of       reality. Words cannot describe reality. Only direct experience enables us to see the true face of reality.          
  
 I must state clearly that my teaching is method to experience reality and not reality itself, just as a finger pointing at the moon is not the moon itself. An intelligent person makes use of the finger to see the moon.


Direct experience. That's the only way to understand the world. You can spend all your time reading books and attending church services with intelligent spiritual people - but until you go out and live and see for yourself you will never understand. I get this. I've always been the kind of girl who had to experience it for herself. You could have screamed at me until you were blue in the face that I shouldn't have gone to that warehouse with that stranger (read my first blog post)- that it was dangerous and stupid and I wasn't thinking clearly - and you would have been right, but I wouldn't have listened. I had to find out for myself. I had to experience it myself. And I can't bring myself to regret it, because it brought me here. Here - where I am seeing things differently and expanding my mind and meeting interesting people and having new and strange experiences. This is exactly where I'm supposed to be. (I know this is not what Buddha meant exactly, but I still think it's applicable. Or maybe I just want it to be. Either way.)

Many of you have sent me messages and said you feel as I do - you are searching for something, you question the religion of your upbringing, you are intrigued by the concept of "God" and religion, you are trying to figure out who you are and how you fit in to the world...
There's only so much you can get from reading my blog - most likely, just a slight chuckle and the understanding that I am fucking crazy. You're going to have to go out and experience "it" for yourself. Whatever "it" is to you. I can't really help you with any of "it". I can just tell you about my experiences and you can tell me about yours and we can help point each other in the general direction of the moon.

Until next time my friends...