Politics and Faith

From an article in Sojourners magazine:
"So how does a big-tent party authentically define itself in terms of faith, values, and religion without offending - or even worse, seeming false or wishy-washy? By reminding itself and the electorate that theirs is the party that represents the majority of Americans’ deeply held beliefs. By embracing its own religiosity and by acknowledging that God, too, is huge - too expansive to be defined as limited and rigid; too intimate in our personal connections to fit one-size-fits-all characterizations. Limiting people’s perception of God runs counter to the reason this nation was founded in the first place.
I mean, really. Could the Creator of all that is and ever was be squeezed into the confines of anything as self-interested, as flawed, as human as a political party?" ~Donna Britt

All I can say is AMEN, SISTER.

Here, read the article for yourself: http://www.sojo.net/index.cfm?action=magazine.article&issue=soj0506&article=050610

May we all find peace someday. . . .

Why are we all trying so hard?

Gosh, sometimes you can just tell when someone is trying too hard. Well, I guess like me tonight, when I was trying to make conversation with my coworker when we took two residents out to eat- it was painfully awkward at times. And hey, the guy is reasonably cute and quite original, so I was a little stuttering and weird. Seriously, why can I just be smooth and graceful? Alas, that is not my lot in life. I have been blessed with wonderful awkwardness and klutziness- not the most wonderful first impression.

But I also get strangely annoyed when another person is trying too hard, and it's obvious. Like, this guy I'm chatting with online, he's working up to the good questions, trying to impress me or whatever. Honestly, who cares, just be real. I am rather wearied of the notion of having to impress another person- it's all rather pointless, wouldn't you say?

Isn't it a bizarre dichotomy, that in this culture, we have a hard time doing something that isn't selfish, but yet, we are always doing things for other people, to gain their approval or affirmation. Working for the approval of others is a tiring game, and completely futile in the end. How much of who we are and who we are becoming is based upon what others think versus who we truly are?

I guess I'm not being very eloquent in trying to express my thoughts right now. I have been mulling over many of these ideas for the past few weeks, most of the summer, actually. This summer has been a deconstruction of sorts for me, taking apart so many things that I used to think and believe, and looking at it critically and trying to understand it.

But, perhaps it's not so logical and methodical as I try to make it seem. Maybe it's a lot of me rejecting my old ways, and a lot of me searching and wondering if there is such thing as transcendence. I often wonder how much of me is a product of my culture, and how much of me is who I truly am and who I am supposed to become.

Why do I always blog on here really late at night? This is the time when my thoughts and words are the least coherent. But, the reason that my thoughts are so jumbled is a result of an email from a friend, which set me to thinking about our American culture. Here, it will express me better than I can express myself right now:

What did you mean by: "our society teaches us to shift focus from the things that really matter."?

Because of capitalization, the distillation of emotional content in media, and the bureaucracy of our government, people are taught, from a very young age, to be consumers. They are taught this through endless examples, from what you eat to what you wear to what you do forentertainment, to what you think will make you attractive/worthwhile,and the list goes on and on. Children are bombarded with media images that show them what "things" will make them happy (from cerealcommercials to toys to the type of music they listen to) and how theycan be successful in the world (through popularity, wearing the 'right'clothes, listening to the 'right' music, etc, basically fitting in) This has many far-reaching effects on individuals from self-esteem issues based on classicism, all sorts of addictions, and finally the shifting of focus from anything that really matters:

We are not taught how to love, we are taught that if we buy/sell/produce ___ we will then and only then be worthy of love. We are not taught how to express our feelings, we are taught how to buy/sell/produce that will alleviate or distract us from feelings. Weare not taught how to think for ourselves, we are taught how to buy/sell/produce that which will allow others to accept us so we don't have to think for ourselves.

Images of violence desensitize children from the far-reaching implications of tragedy and death. Images of so-called normalcy desensitize, distract and filter out the hard realities in the world from children so that they never gain a concept of the extremeconditions which others live in. Even as adults our information is filtered through media conglomerates that dictate what is newsworthy and whose version of the news "story" should be heard and presented as"truth or fact". Together media and consumerism work together fighting hard to shift focus from what really matters to "things" for some kind of instant--but temporary--gratification.

When we die, we don't take anything with us. If anything, we take truly unsayable things. The long experience of love, the pain of loss, the feelings and impressions made by the people who loved us, or who we loved, the memory of the mistakes we made, our hopes and dreams and deepest desires. The feelings we cultivated as children that never went away.

Many people, I think, will reach the point of their death, and realizethat everything they ever did, they did for money. (In some way or another). Many will also realize they never made a real decision: onethat was not a reaction to anything but their true self, one that was not a result of some rebellion, or in some sublimal way a reaction tothe desire to please their parents, etc. That to me is the tragedy of society.

Anywho. That's what I meant.

There ya go. That's the eloquence I wish I had tonight.

Life, Love and other mysteries (wasn't that a song?)

I'm chillin' here late at work, with nothing to do, so I just watched the movie Indecent Proposal. Very thought-provoking movie, about a billionaire who offers a million dollars to a destitute couple in exchange for one night with the wife. I shouldn't really say what else happens, you'll have to see it for yourself. But it brings to mind so many questions about love and trust. How much should spouses trust each other, and how much should they be willing to forgive? That must be crazy, I can't imagine how deeply that would hurt, to be betrayed by the one person that you trust the most. Does love really cover over EVERY offense?

Of course, it's inevitable that each person will be hurt in some way or another by their spouse or significant other- it's quite ignorant to assume otherwise. We can't be naive and believe that we'll never be hurt by those close to us, but should we protect ourselves from the possibility of such a hurt? I've seen several of my friends get deeply involved in romantic relationships, and they let themselves get attached too quickly, and then when it ended, they were deeply hurt. Was is worth it for them to love as deeply as they did, even if it cost them getting hurt just as (if not more) deeply? Things like that make me want to be cynical about love.

In the movies, love stories always have a happy ending. But not all love stories have such a happy ending. Didn't everyone who first started out in relationships truly believe that it would be happy and wonderful forever? Like, for instance, my dad. He married my mom when they were in their late 20's, and said vows that he would love her forever. But, after 13 years of marriage, she died of ovarian cancer. Was it worth it for my dad to have loved her? I suppose so. But why must tragedy always go hand in hand with love? I guess I'm just wondering if it's worth it to love so deeply with anyone (not even necessarily romantically), if loss is virtually inevitable.

I know, I don't want to turn into an apathetic, indifferent, cold person that has no emotion, but I think I am just weary of being so taxed by emotion- is it worth it to love friends, and hurt and rejoice with them, and become very close to them, even if that relationship always ends? Is life just an endless cycle of trading confidants for the next convenient confidant, and beginning the process of trust and love all over again? I'm not even into my twenties yet, and sometimes I already feel wearied with trying to find someone to trust, because I feel like I'm just going to have to keep learning to trust new people, and my heart will be stretched thin.

I suppose the concept of "best friend" is quite ambiguous to me. I once thought that I had a "best friend," someone that I could trust and always rely on; but alas, through the process of growing up and changing and having several conflicts, I learned how expendable the relationship of "best friend" can be. I sometimes think that it has made me a bit hard to trust people again, after being betrayed by the person whom I believed to be the closest to me.

Trust and fidelity are beginning to seem quite gray to me. . . .even though I'd like to believe that they are possible. Besides, we all are temporary beings, whoever could really promise to always be there- we can't even promise ourselves that we'll be here tomorrow?

I often am reminded how finite I am. Every time I drive down the road, I remember how precarious even the act of traveling is, and nothing is ever certain. Not even our own existence. How final that sounds. But yet, when I see my mother's grave in the ground year after year on Memorial Day, I realize that my life is but a moment in the grand scheme of time. I mean, my mom Lynn isn't even remembered that much anymore, or talked about very much. It's only been 17 years since she died, but her memory is beginning to fade now already. In my mind, and in the larger culture. Thousands of cars pass by on the highway every day, not even a few hundred yards from where my mom is buried. I wonder how many of those people take even a second glance to realize how many lives, minds, personalities and dreams are buried in that quiet lot not far off the highway. Sometimes I look out over the vast spread of vehicles cruising down the highway, and I am overwhelmed by the amount of humanity that is passing by my eyes. They all are people, with lives and thoughts and emotions, and each with a temporal life which they cannot avoid. We all feel invincible, of course, because we don't have enough time to slow down our busy lives enough to see the finitude of our own lives staring us bleakly in the face. When I hear news of the war with the numbers of casualties, I often think about how each of those people had families and friends. They were people. Each of the thousands of tsunami victims was a person, but I must admit, it has begun to seem like just another number to me. Another NUMBER of tragedy, of loss, of humanity. I don't think we can avoid becoming numb to it sometimes. If we wept over every tragedy, we wouldn't be able to function, we would be too overcome. I used to cry at roadkill when I was younger, grieving for the poor animal who met its fate under the crushing wheels of an oblivious motorist. What a sad way for their existence to end. But now, I pass by corpses of animals without a second glance. (Strange, that "growing up" has made me more indifferent. What used to move me as a child now doesn't even stir me.)

Last year, when I worked for Youthworks, I was often becoming attached to a certain youth or community kid and putting "too much" of my heart into my relationship with them. I felt like I was being torn apart for the pain that I saw in their lives, I hurt FOR them. I would weep for the girls that I knew felt alone and ugly, for the kids who had no parents, for the youth who felt excluded and outcast. Shouldn't we ALL grieve for these crimes against humanity? If any child even goes to bed hungry, shouldn't we as human beings protest such injustice? Simply because they are HUMAN, and they deserve dignity and respect.

But alas, we are too comfortable in our own safe and lovely lives to see and hurt for the pain of another. There is pain and poverty all around, but it is easier and safer for us to simply turn away and pretend not to see. I would say that perhaps the bigger crime than perpetuating situations of pain and oppression is not saying or doing anything to stop it.

There is so much pain in the world, and what is gained simply by me grieving over it? I can't feed a child any faster if I simply wallow in the obvious pain of the situation? I can say all of these things, but when will true change come? Can I be an agent of true change?

I hope that someday I will know what it means to have authentic compassion on every single human being. . . . . . . .

Thoughts after a wedding. . . .

Tonight, I went to wedding of two friends (it was killer hot, not the best day for a wedding), and I must say it was quite beautiful. It was wonderful to see old friends and catch up (there was a very sincere guy among the lot of us that went around the table at the reception and asked about everyone's summers so we all could hear)- it was the group that I went to Guatemala with over a year ago, but we still are pretty good "companeros" after all this time apart. I experienced a very intense and changing time with these people, and so, they will always understand that part of me in a way that no one else here in the States ever could.

I also saw several of the Youthworks supervisors tonight- and I didn't feel like explaining why I wasn't at my site anymore. I didn't even explain it or dare bring it up to my good friends tonight either- I'm just getting weary of explaining myself (even though I have no shame in it), and having them feel sorry for me; as if it's just a phase, something I'll "work through," something that will "make me stronger." Thanks, everyone, for putting such noble terms on it, but I don't seem to think of my departure from Youthworks and the whole Christian community as something so noble. Sometimes it feels really shitty and lonely. Sometimes, I just crave to have someone come near me and embrace me. You know that feeling? That sometimes you just crave a genuine hug, not just one of those wimpy, pat-on-the-back deals, but a real, caring embrace? I saw the mutual understanding and love on DJ and Rachel's (the bride and groom tonight) faces at their wedding- what a phenomenal thing: to choose someone over all other people in the world to share your life with, and for them to choose you for the same. I remember hearing Rachel's stories about DJ when I was in Guatemala with her, and the letters he would send her, with pictures he had taken of his life to show her. They shared so much with each other, even before they were engaged, or now married.

I talked with a friend a few weeks ago at Caribou about relationships and all that, and somehow we started talking about the idea of being chosen. Perhaps that is something that every human soul so inherently needs, to know and believe that they are chosen, whether by friends and family or a lover who desires to know them deeply. What an anguished feeling, to know that you are forgotten and alone. . . . .

How can one exist in the confines of the phoniness of society? I am in the middle of reading "Catcher in the Rye" right now (I know, I was never assigned it in middle school English class, how sad), and the main character, Holden, seems to be searching for someone who isn't "phony" or fake in the culture around him. But the more he searches, the more he feels alone and discouraged about the state of humanity.

I used to wonder why so many books, stories, movie plots are focused around happy endings, beautiful and talented characters and perfect plot lines? Whatever happened to seeing raw humanity in a story? Have we become immune to it? I often ask myself those things, and I suppose something like this book is what I have been looking for. If the most trusted writer's credo is: "Write what you know," then why aren't more writers telling stories from the lives that they live themselves? The stories of our Western culture are unrealistic, phony and not written from real life. I really don't think many mystery writers have ever witnessed a crime scene, many romance novelists probably have unhappy relationships and unrealistic expectations that aren't being met, and adventure writers probably sit at home getting fat and watching television.

Whatever happened to imagination? The ability to create, to wonder, to tell stories that are true to life. I can only read so many books and see so many movies about adventures, then after a while I need a story about real life again.

I don't get touched by much anymore, maybe because I was told a few months ago that if I let myself be touched by everything, I'd get burned out in a second. So, I think I went to the opposite extreme, with the things that used to bring tears to my eyes or a lump to my throat, now only are something that receive a fleeting glance from me. But perhaps, maybe the reason that the wedding kind of touched me tonight was that it was real people. People that I knew and that had grown up similar to me and attended the same college and done many of the same things. They had found the person to share their life and go through everything with. Even though that's such a simple story, I must say that I never get tired of hearing it- that yet another friend or two friends found mutual deep understanding in each other and decided to commit to one another. I don't get very nostalgic about it for myself, though. I'm happy for my friends that found romantic love in another person, and I know that my heart desires that same thing quite deeply, but I am left to be satisfied with my solitary life right now.

Even though loneliness comes often enough, the beauty of being left with my own thoughts and to have my own time of self-discovery is valuable, even if I can't fully see it right now. Gosh, I must admit that college life (especially nearer to the end of college), the dating and marriage train seem to be passing by at full speed, hard to ignore. I do tire of friends and family asking me, "So, have you started dating anyone yet?" NO! And since when does life only begin when you find a spouse and get married? And why should my worth come from my ability to catch a man? I've had my share of shallow, temporary infatuations and relationships, and they have left a bad taste in my mouth about dating.

Sometimes, I honestly wonder, is any guy truly FOR REAL? Am I for real with myself when it comes to my interactions with guys? I do not want to become someone that I am not in order to obtain the interest of some guy. I have done that enough in my adolescent years, and I am sick of compromising myself and rationalizing it away, simply for the gratification of having someone to date.

There is no formula to dating, anyway, I have discovered. (Sound the trumpet, she's really on to something now!) I guess I am finally coming to terms with the ambiguity of interacting with the opposite sex. I do well with having guy friends, but when the interest of "more than friends" comes up and also a "DTR" (Define The Relationship talk), that's when it gets mucky. I have seen my fair share of friends endure heartbreak and disappointment and unmet expectations, and sometimes it almost leads me to become quite a bit cynical about love.

I mean, these days, you can just go online or on some phone line and shop around until you find somebody that fits your style, almost like going to the mall and picking out a sweater. Since when did it become this easy? Because, in any of these venues, is anyone really presenting themselves AS THEY TRULY ARE, or are they just presenting the part of themselves that will appear to be the most appealing? Who is EVER willing to present themselves as they truly are? Maybe dating has become the time of fakeness and superficiality in our culture today, and marriage is the time to discover the true person (which is maybe why so many people are disappointed and more than 50 percent of all marriages end in divorce- another reason to be cynical about love!); but shouldn't it be the other way around, or not a dichotomy at all? Shouldn't relationships be an interaction that involves both the good and bad, beautiful and ugly, loving and selfish parts of a person, and accepts all of it as the whole person? Sure, I have a lot of shit in my life, but it's what makes me ME, and I can't make any apologies about that.

Even with all of my cynicism and questions about love and dating, I haven't given up yet. I, of course, am not going to settle just because I want to date arbitrarily. To quote While You Were Sleeping: "Marriage is hard enough without bringing in such low expectations." Sometimes, I try to deny that I have feelings for a guy, but it's no use denying it- I might as well accept it and understand WHY I feel it, and what I can learn from it. And, also, to not have unrealistic expectations for it. I've heard (from my friends in relationships) that being in love is heaven, but it's also real life- yay for that!

Maybe someday, I'll know what being in love is like. . . . . .if I ever get the opportunity. . . . .

Nothing to say. . . .

It's been forever since I've written on here, and I feel like I have nothing to say, but yet, I have so much to say. Maybe that's the beauty of a blog, that you can just ramble, and it doesn't really matter because it's just sent off into cyberspace anyways.

For the whole duration of this blog, I have voiced so much of my skepticism and my cynicism, venting all of that frustration in this outlet which no one reads (at least, I don't think anyone reads it). I've finally decided that I am an agnostic, I have no idea what the hell I should believe, and I don't want to believe in some "god" simply because I feel like I have to believe. Arbitrary belief is hollow.

I feel as if I can question and wonder and learn so much more about myself and the world when I don't have the necessary "requirement" of God hanging over my head. Who'd have thought that I would feel freer when I did away with belief in God?

I guess, I must say, I've given up on belief, because I just don't have enough faith to believe all this stuff and also measure up to the religious standards that are subconsciously applied to all Christians. I thought that Christians were supposed to be culture-changers, rebels, deeply satisfied and passionate? But most of the Christians I know are weary.

We're supposed to experience passion ONLY in religious experience. . . . .as if our natural experience as humans is inherently flawed. But honestly, I see transcendence in music, poetry, and nature- and am I a heretic because of it? The ancient Celtic monks believed that God was found in nature, and that his immanence was displayed in the beauty of the earth. But alas, our Western view of God is altogether too Greek-centered, because God is seen as this far-off, completely other, removed being- who is too holy to become involved in human affairs. I think that I am exasperated of that view. . . . .it is so defeating and pointless.

Also, I recoil from the idea that God is only a male. That idea has been handed down from patriarchal societies for centuries, and the idea of a supra-gender God has been completely lost, along with the ability of a female to truly relate to this "god." If this God is only male, than I'm sure I will have as much confusion in understanding "Him" as I do trying to understand my male friends and their minds.

This is all just ranting and raving. . . .it has little coherency, but since when are my thoughts perfectly coherent?