Naturally, religion was brought up.
J. is gay and agnostic. I adore him. I adore all my friends--many who happen to be homosexual and/or agnostic or atheist. These friends know of my spirituality and belief in God. We are at complete understanding to respect and love each other as we are. They appreciate it when I offer prayers for them during hard times and I appreciate their sending positive energy into the world during my hard times. I'll answer questions when they're curious and tell them my stories which include God. My true friends don't not get upset with me and understand my spirituality is a big part of who I am.
But I'm also not the typical Jesus freak. I have absolutely no qualms with homosexuality and believe in equality and marriage for all. I believe in pro-choice. I pretty much feel like an old Jewish Bubby saying in my Brooklyn accent, "Maybe people should worry less about what other people are doing and mind their own damn business!"
I believe we all have our own paths of spirituality. I personally relish in the poetry of the Tao te ching and consider myself culturally Jewish. As far as religion goes, a form of Christianity works best for me. The form I follow is to love--love God and love others. Others being EVERYONE. It's not always easy but I find that I'm happier when I choose to love rather than hate.
I believe that God's love isn't limitless and neither should ours. We're all fucked up (oh, I also like to swear!)--I believe we were made this way. If God created both good and evil, it's bound that we'll dabble in it all at some point. Nobody's perfect. We're human. Shit happens. And if you're lucky, that you'll find a pony in the pile of shit.
I thank my parents for this. My dad was agnostic and my mother raised me as a Christian like her (although I'm pretty sure her family is Jewish). When I got my nose pierced, my mom shook her head like I was an idiot. My father told me how he had dated an Indian woman with a nose piercing. Suffice it to say, I grew up in a very mixed and diverse home, loud and always debating. I grew up looking at all the different angles of a theory or idea.
But not everyone has been so lucky.
The topic of suicide was brought up with my friend. Particularly with gay men. When he had come out, his parents (strict Christians) said something like, "We love you no matter what you choose." I've heard similar statements from other Christians and what they all mean is: "We love you but you're still gonna go to hell."
So many people (my father included) leave the church because they're never fully accepted. There's a lot of bullshit being said. "We love you but--." As far as I'm concerned, there is no "but." And yet, I've felt the "but" before (pun intended).
Those who adamantly read my blog or know me know how fickle and over-analytic I can be. This is found especially in my religious conquests in trying to get closer to God. I described it once as if I was on the verge of performing stigmata. I just never feel like I'm doing enough.
I myself have fantasized about death. I don't like to say I've been suicidal as I'm too chicken shit to ever do it but I've certainly felt like an outcast and unloved at many moments during my life that left me feeling hopeless. But no matter how far I've come, those dark moments still creep up on me.
During our conversation, I had an epiphany. I was relating to those young gay men who took their lives. "It doesn't make sense," my friend and I observed. "If only they had come to West Hollywood and they'd see how welcome and loved they are!"
But many of those men and women came from religious homes with friends, families, and churches saying, "We love you but..."
God loves you but--
God loves you but--
God loves you but--
God loves you but--
God loves you but--
According to religion, God may love me but I've fucked up too much and have probably been possessed by the devil a few times. So I try, and try, and try but I'm still human.
I'll never, ever tell someone who is gay they belong in hell or aren't loved by God because I just do NOT believe in that. But I have no problem with worrying about my own fate.
I broke down to my friend Laura a few nights ago. I thought myself crazy and began to question my life. Those dark moments were creeping in on me. I felt useless and shitty. I told her how I've done what they've told me to do-- I tithe 10%, I pray everyday throughout the day, I vent my troubles and worries to God, try to be honest with the world and yet I sometimes wonder--what if it is all for nothing? What if God hates me and is ignoring me? What if it's all bullshit?
Then I feel really guilty. So for what I first felt guilty and troubled about, I now feel doubly guilty and troubled for questioning my guilt and troubles.
You should see my journals--I go round and round with myself.
I love people but X made me mad today. I should be more humble though. It's wrong to get mad at people. I want to follow my dreams but what if they aren't God's wishes for me. But God wouldn't put it in my mind if he didn't want me to do it. But I ask God all the time to specifically tell me what he wants me to do and he doesn't. Maybe I'm not listening hard enough. Is this my will or His will? How do I know? What if this whole time I thought I was on the right path but I really wasn't? What if he hates me? What if he's up there saying, Helena, quit this shit and get working? What if I'm crazy?
What my friend J. appreciated about me was that I found my own religion. I've strayed away from the church, studied other religions, but as I got older, I found my own path--not the one that was fed to me as a child. But the things that were fed to me when I was younger still linger in my mouth.
I battle with determining if I'm a good person every damn day. I usually determine that I'm failing at this and beat myself up over it. I'm battling all the "but's" and all the "but's" tell me I could do better. I could be better. I could be saintlier. I could be more human. I could be less judgmental. I could be pickier about who I surround myself with. I could be more humble.
I could
I could
I could
I could probably use a lobotomy.
The the thing I have trouble wrapping my head around is that most of these things contradict each other. I discovered years ago the key is balance. Yet, the thing we need the most is arguably the most difficult thing to discover and practice. Therefore, aiming for balance has been my way of aiming for perfection by calling it something else. And most people would agree that one should never aim for perfection.
And yet, we do. People following Christ especially do. We try to say that we know we're not perfect and we'll never be and yet we (some of us) strive to be as good if not better than God.
I had to ask, has religion made me this way? It seems that most of my inner turmoil is agitated over whether or not something is a sin aka "Is God gonna love me but-- over this?" Is this God's will or my own in trying to control my life?
I honestly don't know how to handle this. Some tell me I'm fine and just over-think way too much. Others tell me to pray and read the Bible. Some empathize with my worries. Some tell me questioning God is normal and okay. Some tell me that it's good to think of these things. But I can find where all these thoughts contradict each one another. Maybe I'm just that good. The could's, the but's, the advice--none of them are exactly conducive to each other and I'm still left feeling crazy and stagnant--afraid to make any decision due to a fear of the resulting consequences and repercussions--both human and holy. Then sadly I feel guilty for rejoicing in all the blessings that have been given to me.
I have such a fear of living and yet people tell me I'm so good at it. I tell people I fear the judgments of others and they say while shocked, "And yet you're the most care-free and honest person I know." I have no problem talking about BDSM and other girl talk and yet contemplate holding out for marriage.
"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes."
We contain multitudes. We are complex and imperfect. We are beautiful. Gay, straight, black, white, male, female and everything in-between. And we should all be loved without any "but's" added to it.
Does this mean I have to give up on religion? I don't know. I do know I don't want to give up on God. Perhaps it's certain people I need to let go of. Who are we to tell anyone how to live their lives? What do we know?
"A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is, any more than he."
(poem excerpts from Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass.)
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