Feeling better

After yesterday's post, I actually feel better. I think I just needed to articulate my feelings instead of having it as this vague, slightly unsettling notion rattling around in my head. Life is a journey and full of conflict. Without conflict life would be dull. I need to wrestle with these questions and feelings. It may take me a lifetime to figure it all out and I may never know the answers, but at least I will not have given up. Maybe I will even go to church this Sunday...assuming I can get my lazy arse out of bed.

Losing my religion

My apologies Mr. Stipe, I know you did not mean losing my religion literally, but I do. I find myself questioning my faith, or what little I have left daily. For someone who is unsure what to believe about God anymore, I spend an awful lot of time thinking about him/her. First I  must say I whole heartily endorse the teachings of Jesus. No matter how you feel about his divinity or religion in general, his teachings are a sound basis for anyone to build a life upon. I have never been a great lover of organized religion even though I have been a member of a Baptist church and the United Methodist Church. I was baptized at age 12 in a river behind the little church I attended as a child. While it was a very moving experience, I sometimes think I did it out of fear more than love. I feared what would happen to my soul if I died unbaptized, not necessarily out of a need to be born anew in God's love. Heavy stuff for a 12 year old. I always had an overactive imagination.

When I was younger than that I used to worry about what would happen if the Rapture happened and I was separated from my family. I don't even know how I got all these ideas in my head as my parents certainly did not put them there. Both were religious in there own way, but did not attend church. They tried to teach us kids that God was good and looking out for us. Some of my ideas came from the first church I attended as a small  child. It was a crazy little church just up the road from our house that my brothers and I sometimes attended. The pastor, who coincidentally was my school bus driver, was a sing-song, foaming-at-the-mouth, are-you-going-to-hell-or-heaven-if-you-die-tonight kind of minister. He was always hoarse because he yelled so much during his sermon. Needless to say at four years old being told that you are going to hell because you are a miserable sinner does make a wee bit of an impression. I did not tell my mom about this until I was an adult.

I have always felt that there must be something bigger out there. Something or someone who created all the magnificence I see on a daily basis. Our world, our bodies are some kind of miracle. Even so I have had a difficult time feeling that the God I have been told about all my life is the responsible party. There are so many things in the Bible that do not make sense to me. There is also the cliche, but no less relevant, thought of why do bad things happen to good people? There is war, famine, sickness, cruelty, and wanton destruction in our world. There are people who claim to be God-fearing, good people and yet they discriminate against and scorn others because they dare to love someone of the same sex, or because they had a baby out of wedlock or believe the world is older than 6,000 years. Christianity is supposes to be about tolerance, love, and compassion, but expressing such views in the eyes of some makes you some kind of raving liberal, socialist hippie. I do not think there is anything wrong with being a liberal, socialist, or hippie (except for dirty hippies, take a bath already!). I use to go to church regularly, but I have not been in months. I feel like a hypocrite walking through the doors. How can I worship God if I am not sure God exists?

I am confused and adrift. I see my friends posting things they are thankful for on Facebook and I am happy they have so many things to be thankful for. I have many great things in my life too, but I also feel a bit empty. I want to have faith, to believe, but in what? I still pray, but it feels hypocritical. I think it is healthy to question your faith and what you believe. No one should ever follow anything blindly. I try to console myself with the thought that I am not the first person to have these thoughts and I certainly will not be the last. I wish though I could a glimmer of light, something to hold on to that lets me know I do not walk through this life alone. I have family and friends who love and support me and that certainly helps. Perhaps they should be my religion. I will keep seeking, asking questions, and maybe I will find some answers, some peace. If I do I will put it out to the ether in hopes that some other lost soul finds it too.

Earthquake!

Since I never post as often I as I mean to or when there is news I decided to break the trend today. About an hour and half ago we had an earthquake here in Virginia. It was a 5.9 and is the biggest quake since 1897 here in VA. The epicenter was in Mineral, VA.  It was felt as far south as NC and as far north as Canada. In the grand scheme of things it is not that large of a quake, but it so rarely happens on the east coast. It is also crazy that it was felt over such a wide area.

I am at work in the library and thought at first something had burst in the basement. It was clear after a few seconds that it was more than that. I stayed in the doorway until it was over. It lasted about 30 seconds. A check of the archives and special collections revealed that everything stayed on the shelves. We only found a single journal that had fallen off a shelf. That is really good news. Now I just hope everything is ok at home and that the dog is not seriously traumatized!

Hotter than the sixth shades of hell!

I have uttered this phrase on occasion without really thinking about it. That is until someone said they had never heard it before, which made me wonder where I had heard it. I grew up hearing it said on especially hot days, but I cannot track it back to one person. I know that it refers to the 6th circle of hell in Dante's Inferno, but it has been years since I read it and I do not remember what that level was.  After a little research I found that this circle contains the City of Dis. On the plain outside the city are red hot iron tombs where the heretics dwell. These shades will never know respite from the flames.  Knowing that nugget of information I understand how the phrase came into use.

Since the heat index will be between 110-115 degrees, I think saying it is hotter than the sixth shades of hell is entirely appropriate today. All I can say is thank God for AC and don't forget to water you maters, pets, and old people! Seriously folks stay cool!

Chicken Feathers

Today is Father's Day. I miss my dad every single day, but it helps to remember all the good things. Today I thought about something I had not thought of in quite some time. When I was about four years old, we were getting ready to move from our apartment to the farm my parents had bought. The farm had a large barn with a tack room, which I thought was called a "tacker room" for some reason.

One evening I was with him when he painted the tack room doors. I really wanted to help so I went to find something I could use as a paint brush. There were a bunch of chicken feathers in the barn and I thought one would make a good brush. I grabbed the biggest one I could find and proceeded to dip it into the can of brown paint. Daddy was a bit worried about me helping because my mom might get upset if I came home covered in paint. I told him not to worry that if he held me up to the sink so I could wash my hands mom would never know! He let me help and we spent a pleasant evening with dad painting the doors while I "helped" by painting the bottom with my chicken feather. Of course I was not very careful and soon I was covered with splatters of brown paint.

When I was older we would laugh about this story. Mom said dad was worried about using turpentine to clean off my hands since I was so delicate. He did his best to clean me off with a rag and then we set off for home to face mom's wrath. Fortunately she found it more funny than foolish. She thought it was funny how I told daddy if he helped me wash up mom would never know.  I will always remember that. We did not spend a lot of time together one on one like that, but when we did it was very special. Even if it was doing something as mundane as painting some doors, dad with a broad even stroke, and me dabbing paint on with my chicken feather.  After he died, I went to the tack room and rubbed my hand over the flaking brown paint we had put on all those years ago and it made me smile.

Happy Father's Day, daddy. I love you.

Watch out for Falling Rocks

This has been rattling around in my head for awhile so I thought I would write a blog post about it. My dad died 10 years ago and there is not a day that goes by that I don't think about him. Recently I have been thinking about a story he used to tell me. Whenever we were driving somewhere and he saw the sign "Watch  for Falling Rock," he would tell me to look quick to see if I could see "him." The "him" was an old Indian named Falling Rock.

According to my father he was an Indian who was very upset by the mistreatment of the land by other people. He was a small, old man who lived in a hollow log and refused to participate in society. Instead he wandered around the mountains he loved so much. Whenever Falling Rock encountered a roadway where people had littered or polluted the surrounding area it would make the old man very angry. He got his revenge by pushing rocks down the slopes and into the road or possible at an offending car that had just thrown trash out the window. He might have been old, but he was strong and quick so it was very rare that someone actually caught a glimpse. Whenever he was spotted a sign went up to warn people to take care and be on their best behavior or else Falling Rock might send a boulder into the road.

Of course I would eagerly peer out the window to see if I could find him. Sometimes my dad would say he saw him and that I just needed to look harder. It was a great story to tell to a kid to keep them entertained in the truck. Not only that it taught me to be respectful of the land. I don't know if he made it up or heard it somewhere else, but I will always associate it with daddy. As an adult it helps me to understand him even more. My dad loved the outdoors and spent as much time as he could out either working in it or enjoying it. He wanted his children to appreciate the land. He was a farmer and he used the land as a tool, but he also cared for it and respected it. I doubt he would ever consider himself a "green person," but he certainly was an advocate and a conservationist long before our current trend of eco-awareness. I owe much of my awareness and awe of nature to him.

Every time I see a Falling Rock sign I think about my dad and have a little chuckle. Of course I cannot resist looking up the hill to see if a tiny wizened man is waiting to push rocks down on anyone who dares to disrespect the land.

Good Friday Earth Day

As is bound to happen sometimes, Easter holy days and Earth Day fall at the same time on the calendar. Today is both Good Friday and Earth Day. I find it very fitting since these evoke feelings in me about two ideas I care very much about, but that I struggle with. I care very deeply about the environment and taking care of it. Threaded throughout this desire is the idea that this lovely world was created and given to us by God. We are suppose to care for it as God does, not destroy it. God created it so therefore it must be good.

The conflict for me comes from my inability to be as "green" as I should be and also my conflicting feelings about religion. I go from atheist to true believer and then somewhere in between constantly. I think it is good to question your beliefs and analyze why you feel the way you do. I think there is a God or some divine being, otherwise I cannot fathom how this world got here. The rational part of my brain says there has to be a reasonable explanation, whether I know it or not, that does not include any divine intervention. Yet there is something that tugs at me saying there has to be something else, a guiding force. I find no problem in following the teachings of Jesus whether you believe in him or not since I feel if everyone lived the way he did, the world would be a much better place. A philosophy of love and compassion can never be a bad thing.

This is why I tie my love of the earth to a sense of religious obligation to protect and care for it. Whether I am right or wrong on the whole religion thing I suppose I will find out when I die. In the meantime I see nothing wrong with living in harmony with our planet and trying to protect it. If there is a God who created this magnificent world then I would think God would want us to take care of it and not abuse it  and by extension to take care of and not abuse our fellow humans. After all we are a part of this creation too, we are tied to it and cannot live without it. The Earth however can survive very well without us, she has in the past and will most likely survive and thrive without us in the future.

So on this Good Friday and Earth Day, I will reexamine my commitment to green living and contemplate the sacrifice Jesus made on the cross. I think he died to redeem all of creation and we should honor that by living the best life we can.

Bird's the word

I saw an interesting sight on my way to work this morning. As I was stuck in slow traffic moving up the hill toward Broad Street I saw a huge bird sweep low and then land on top of a traffic sign. It was a hawk. He was large and handsome. I thought it was a treat to see such a bird up close. He was perched very nonchalantly scouting the ground below. Suddenly another bird came swooping out of a nearby tree right at the hawk. It was a much smaller bird. It flitted around the hawk and then back to the tree and then repeated the maneuver.

At first I thought it was a blue jay since they can be quite territorial and I thought it would be up to the task of taking on a hawk. As I inched up the hill I could see it was not a blue jay. I took note of its markings. When I got to work I checked and I believe it was a Northern Mockingbird. Apparently this bird will take on a bird that is encroaching in its territory. Even though it was not a laughing matter for the birds, it made me laugh to see this bird take on the much more fearsome hawk. It is one of the few times I wish I had been stuck in traffic longer.