Who We Once Were and Where We Might Go

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I should probably start off by saying that I don’t consider myself a religious person. I was baptized Catholic, but my parents were always open-minded; I have almost zero memories of being at church on Sundays, and our version of saying grace before dinner was the classic “God is great. God is good. Let us thank him for our food…” rhyme said by my sister or me. I guess we were the kind of people who showed up for the important stuff (I still enjoy a beautiful midnight mass on Christmas Eve!) but church just wasn’t a priority in my upbringing. As I got older, there was never an ounce of pressure from my family to live the way the Lord wished, or to do the ‘godly’ thing and go to church every single Sunday and stay after for a session in the confessional (to this day, I’m extremely thankful for this, and will allow my son to make decisions on his faith in the same manner.) But although my faith isn’t a huge factor in my life, and being Catholic technically means you’re Catholic and ONLY Catholic and ALWAYS will be, as well as your entire family (if you’re a crazy Catholic as well, you know what I’m talking about…) but I would say there’s bits and pieces from various religions or spiritual beliefs that I find very intriguing. And although a lot of the teachings are practically the opposite of what I may or may not have learned being Catholic, I seem to most identify with a lot of the beliefs of Buddhism or Hinduism. I find peace and comfort from the universe, nature, positive vibes and good karma. It actually kind of blows my mind how the messages resonate with me; there’s nothing complicated to the spiritual philosophy ‘When I do good, I feel good and when I do bad, I feel bad type of religion.
I’ve always had a fascination with the concept of a “Past Life”. I think it’s possible that our soul is so much more than the body it happens to reside in: it feels possible to me that I may have existed elsewhere at another time, and may even exist again, even though I’ve got plenty of life left to live, of course. I went through a lot of ‘phases‘ in my younger years; for instance, I basically lived each day for Catwoman. I had a Catwoman theme birthday party, a Catwoman bike, Catwoman footie pajamas and some days even made my mom call me Catwoman at all times. (Oh, for the love of funny memories…I’m chuckling like a school girl thinking about that). I was in third grade when my “hippie phase” hit me. Hard. I loved the Gerry Bears (a Grateful Dead icon) and bought the plushes in plenty of colors. I immediately wanted anything with a peace sign or a VW Beetle on it. I dreamed of rocking at Woodstock and putting flowers in soldiers’ guns while protesting Vietnam. I wanted every T-shirt in my closet to be tie-dye and all my jeans to be flared, with a ying-yang patch on the knee for good measure. I was definitely a suburban flower (very young) child. It was funny to my parents, and went on for quite some time, as did other phases. But then, years later, my dreams started to take on a 60s-like feel. By this time, I had learned a little more about that point in history and felt drawn to the events that unfolded during those times and places. But there was definitely more to it than make-believe: I’d wake up and fully remember my surroundings (including watching Jimi Hendrix play the ‘Star Spangled Banner early in the morning at Woodstock, or exploring the theories of Timothy Leery) and believed whole-heartedly in being ‘Far out, man. But even beyond that, I feel a connection to that time in history. The music, the culture, the revolution, the rebelliousness. Not to mention the weed. Do I one hundred percent believe I was really there? Maybe not, but I don’t think it’s totally impossible, either. Buddhists believe in reincarnation, and I feel I can identify with that (far more than I find myself identifying with Catholicism, anyway). Plus, I’m a big fan of enlightment through experience, instead of ‘repent for all you’ve done, and you might reach nirvana. Ugh.
Plus, I’m a big fan of belief in the unknown. Conspiracies, ghosts among us, aliens-I love to theorize about what goes against the norm (by the way, if you actually think that our tiny planet is the only place with life in the entire gargantuan universe surrounding us, then you are an idiot. I hope someday you have an experience like Christopher Columbus when he did NOT sail off the edge of the ‘flat’ Earth. No offense ☺️) and wondering about the sort of powers the universe holds that those who aren’t looking would never see. I think that’s why I have some disdain towards organized religion: I don’t like the “I’m right and you’re wrong” mentality, the “none of this incredible beauty around us would be possible without God” riffraff, or the “This is what the Bible says, therefore it MUST be true!” rantings (If ANYONE thinks I’d be totally down for being “beneath” my husband because that’s the word of the Lord, or that it’s ok to burn books because their content might go against the moral guidance of the Bible, let me tell you: THERE IS SIMPLY NO WAY IN HELL.) I feel connected with a higher power when I see a beautiful night sky full of stars, when I’m quietly meditating and reading something fabulous, or when my son points at the sun and smiles back at me. Heaven means something different to everyone, but especially to those who choose to look at it beyond pearly gates or God perched on a cloud. To me, I see heaven every time the night is clear and millions of twinkling stars shine brightly with the moon, a mere glimpse of the improbable beauty that lies beyond it.
I seem to be rambling, but all that really needs to be said is imagine the possibilities if others weren’t so confined by their particular set of beliefs. Whether you see a higher power is a magestic man watching us from above, or believe that with good karma comes Samsāra (cycles of rebirth), life is what you make it, so enjoy it while you’re here!
…I know my hippie self did, and so shall I! 😄

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Late night musings under a full moon…

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The moon is brilliant tonight. The weather has finally cooled off a bit and I couldn’t be more pleased with this current late night Sunday.

Spending time with the people I love, lounging in a set of my new badass pajamas, and even a tightly rolled delight of kush 😊 , all while writing and laughing under the enormous moon.

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Lovely. Just, lovely.

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Kashmir

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Explaining to a toddler that Momma isn’t playing for 45 minutes so she can get some words out is downright impossible. Thanks to Mickey Mouse I was able to freewrite this afternoon, atleast for a brief moment anyway. We’re jammin’ Led Zeppelin right now, so I’ll credit them with the inspiration.

The understood belief that each individual exists for some sort of purpose is hard to grasp when I see so much that all remains the same. The claim that all people are unique is so seemingly false; the ability most have to make assumptions is such a cloud to the mind, and so often do these assumptions hinder any and all ability to form individualized opinions.

A mind is such a hideous thing to waste with the useless clutter of the “accepted” way of life and process of thought. What purpose could an individual serve when they strive for nothing except to live the way they’re assumed to; maybe the exploration of our world is better left to those who hold the belief in what exists beyond the sense of normalcy.

I take great pride in being some sort of diversion; removing focus from the expected. Those of us with the need to explore are atleast serving a purpose, despite the scorned simplicity in which the creative are judged. There is a deeper, more colorful side to this life; reality is so far from impressive. Such a wonderful sense of self-knowledge comes with the ability to challenge, to wander, to escape; and perhaps the most quintessential task: to utilize the harnessed power of one’s imagination.

Far beyond the assumed, child-like daydream; to imagine is an essential part in what it is to truly live. A mind stuck with what is only one view, whatever is presented front and center; with not one obscure thought and a complete lack of any and all humor is nothing but a slowly ticking time bomb; a reminder of the often bland structure that has captured the spot of accepted daily routine. A closed mind serves no good purpose; even the slightest touch of nonsense sparks a fanciful mentality that not only brings forth an elevated mood, but lessens the burdens of life’s realities.

The intoxication of exploration is a treat far too tempting not to be tested. I find purpose in the need to ponder the possibilities that lie beyond what directly meets the eye. We too often tend to forget our joyous splendor we once found in innocent imaginary adventure; to let our “priorities” stand in the way of our simple pleasures. To be cast among the boring is to be confined; the most infinite of worlds of extraordinary proportions is just a thought or two away.

Nothing too fancy, but it feels good to write, nonetheless. Expand your consciousness, people. There’s much more to this world than what you may see…