Savoring the Beat July 23, 2009

My mom is leaving tomorrow for southern Idaho, so for a while we had a plan to carpool a ways down there. She would drop me off at a monastery and I would spend a couple nights down there, volunteering and just hanging out, because I’ve never been in that kind of environment before. Then I found out that their facilities aren’t really open to that right now–only to retreats. Which means it would be two nights/three days in complete devotion to God, and I don’t think I’m ready for that. That’s pretty intense, and I feel like such an amateur.

Anyway, it turns out that they’re booked up for this weekend, so I’m not able to stay there even if I had the guts. It’s sad that I would even need guts to visit a monastery, for Heaven’s sake, but it’s true. Situations like that have always intimidated me. When I got to my middle/high school, everyone was familiar with the Bible and I barely knew where Genesis was. I’ve gotten a bit better, and a little more confident, but I still freeze up every time I enter a Catholic church. When do I kneel? When do I stand? With which hand do I cross myself?

It’s odd that I have some friends to whom this is all second nature… then, I have some friends who have only memorized the moves and rituals from movies, and some who have never stepped inside a Catholic church. I love them all, of course. But I do become wary of people who don’t really step out of their box.

That’s why Caleb and I are looking into “touring” some churches in the area, just to get some variety before I leave again. And when I do leave, I’d like to keep going to a church, because I love the experience. Last Sunday, after church, my dad asked me what it was like after the sermon. “Do people leave immediately, or mill around, or dissect the sermon, or what?”

After thinking for a moment, I likened it to the moments after a Sweet Adelines rehearsal. We sing a closing song, usually with hands held, and close with a big finish. We’re all smiling at each other and praising each other for a job well done, no matter how the evening went. Then, when we release hands, there’s a “beat” (as they say in the acting community) where everyone just sort of sighs.

It’s marvelous how similar things are in the churches I’ve been to. As the congregation closes with a song or a rousing chorus, everyone feels unified and vibrantly alert of each other and the reason they are all gathered there. Then, like the end of a rehearsal, there is a moment like a sigh–it isn’t silent, and it’s not particularly reverent, but it is somewhat thoughtful.

That’s a pretty cool moment, though it’s usually unremarkable. I mean, it’s also just the moment when everyone picks up their Bible and purse, begins talking to their neighbor, and makes their way out of the pew. Life goes on. It’s ordinary. But it’s the most comfortable moment, because there’s so much to think about, and yet it’s a very tense moment, because there’s so much responsibility. I always feel pretty pressured to keep up the kind of faithfulness I’ve felt for the past hour. And even that is a pretty awesome (yes, awe-some) feeling… but it’s also near impossible.

As many a pastor has said, “life gets in the way.” Sometimes I wish I were someone like Rumi or Aristotle or the Dalai Lama, for whom life probably does not get in the way. Feeling faithful IS their life. Hopefully they know how lucky they are.

Lucky. April 19, 2009

I had this moment of epiphany (among many, the other day) where I realized that this picture I had was of something very different than what I thought it was. 

It’s the picture I uploaded for the pic of this site– the peace sign one. That was painted on the side of a building in Laurel Canyon in Hollywood, where many many stars have lived and live now. 

It has been my desktop picture for some time now, so I’ve been looking at it for quite a while. And I always saw the white form on top of the peace sign as a white dove, which made sense since they’re the symbol of peace.

But the other day, while I was staring at my computer and shedding more tears over the dumb situation with my parents, I realized it was a hand holding the peace sign… and of course, in my weakened state my whole world came together at an apex at the moment I realized that and what it meant– we all hold peace in our hands, and when we don’t realize that, we keep “waiting for the world to change,” and nothing happens. 

I have fewer doubts now that peace WILL spread, as long as individuals take advantage of the power of peace that each holds in his hands. 

It’s not a joke that I believe in music so fully. It’s not just because I’m so at a loss for something else to believe in, it’s not just because I’m so lazy that all I do is listen to music anyway, so that might as well be what I have faith in. It’s not just because that’s what I grew up with instead of a religious background, so that’s all I know. All of those things may be true, but in my defense I will say that it’s not for lack of thought that I’ve come to the conclusion that music is the most real and most powerful thing we can believe in.

If I really wanted to go out on a limb, I would proclaim my belief that furthermore, the Beatles have everything one needs to live. Again, my ignorance is “at fault,” because I’m sure many people would say, “well, that’s because you haven’t heard ________.” I realize that the Beatles themselves aren’t the epitome of perfection (though they’re pretty damn close). I realize that they aren’t even very good musicians or musical geniuses, in comparison with people like Hendrix or Santana, or the classical greats like Bach or Tchaikovski. But personally, their music speaks to me more than anyone else I’ve ever heard. 

Anyway, can I hear an Amen?! I’m sure there are others out there that have felt music resonate with them more than any sermon or revelation. Maybe not. Can I hear a Nay from the others?

I’m Lucky I’m in love with [the Beatles]. Ironically, I haven’t listened to the Beatles at all today… Jason Mraz (who is also a musical god) has been my soundtrack so far. And yes, I do go some days without listening to the Beatles at all. Just like many people go many days without going to church. It doesn’t mean we’re without worship or recognition of the Greatness.

Quartet for the End of Time April 18, 2009

Today was ironic because it was the date of the publication of the first-ever “Counter Point Journal,” which was created in obvious rebuttal to our formal school newspaper, and this week I designed almost three pages in our Cooper Point Journal.

Today was ironic because I’m writing this paper on faith, and I’m way behind. I figured out that I wanted to work in the idea of music, and that people can ultimately have faith in music. Then, I accidentally uncovered an email that my mom sent me months back that I’d never read, because it was a forward. But it was called “A Contemplation on Music,” and it was a welcome address given to freshmen at the Boston Conservatory by Karl Paulnack, who teaches there. It’s perfect–it has every tidbit I want and need for my paper. But it contains all the sentences I wish I could say. He recommends many classical pieces, one of which I’m listening to right now. It’s called “Quartet For The End Of Time,” by Olivier Messiaen. He was French and lived in the 1940s, when he was captured and sent to a German concentration camp. There, he wrote this piece, that was composed for four musicians– the four he found in the camp, including himself. It’s dark.

Today is ironic because, to couple with finding that paper in my email, I had one of the best classes ever. Our teachers brought in a panel of three other faculty members who could talk to us about faith. They spoke of their experiences and bared some parts of their pasts, which made them very vulnerable. Andrew, one of my seminar leaders, even said that he felt so uncomfortable with it that he wouldn’t have been able to talk like that at the beginning of the year. But now, he said, he trusts us more. I took that very personally, and was thrilled to hear that we were deserving of his stories.

That’s ironic, because I was very excited about my fantastic class time and all I wanted to do was tell my parents. And all I asked was that they be together so they could put me on speakerphone and we could all talk at the same time. But, my mother went to the lake AGAIN (which I don’t fault her for, really) which meant I couldn’t talk to them simultaneously. And I refuse to say everything twice! That always happens, and I hate it. It always sucks the second time and I leave things out and I’m not enthusiastic and it feels like a chore. If I was going to pick one to tell about my class, it would be my dad because he loves hearing that stuff, and he’s intellectual. Mom’s more “spiritual,” I guess (that’s a word that was discussed around faith in our class). But she would absolutely flip out if I only told dad or if I told dad first. And I don’t feel like rewarding their strange behavior that I don’t like with saying things twice or catering to them.

It’s not like they’re “separating,” and they’re certainly not getting a divorce. They’re not like that. And, ha, since my dad’s a divorce attorney, it’s pretty much out of the question. Anyway, nothing like that. But it bothers me that they spend so much time apart. I mean at times, it feels like they might as well be divorced for all the time they see each other. I always talk to each separately, and I always have to text the same things to both. And I KNOW that if I were to talk to someone about this, it would be that stupid talk all children get: “It’s not your fault in any way! Mommy and daddy love you very much, and you’re what holds them together!” 

Because that’s exactly what I’m afraid of! I’m not there anymore! It’s like there’s nothing holding them together! And it’s not all about me, but come on… I am the only only only only only child, in a family of seven including me, and everyone else lives an hour away from my parents. I can’t imagine what they DO when I’m gone. All my parents have is work, and the dogs. Maybe the dogs are what is holding them together.

OH MY GAH I wish I could call Shadow up right now and talk to him about this! Then life would be perfect. Actually, if I had a sibling right about now it would make me SUPER happy. Mom always said that the most solid thing that helped her get through her parents’ divorce was her brother. I don’t have one. What now?

After my class on faith, I just keep thinking there’s something I need to turn to, if only I knew what it was. It’s an awful feeling. I racked my brain trying to think of who to call, and all my options were excellent (Rita, Erin, and Caleb), but all I wanted to do was call my daddy. I talk to my parents about EVERYTHING. Usually, even though I hate it, I make the sacrifice to say everything twice because I just always talk to them. When there’s conflict or stress in my life, I almost always call my parents to unload. So it gets horrendous when I have conflict about them, because I’m not ready to speak directly to them yet (and, well, I CAN’T, because I most certainly don’t want to do THAT twice, so I have to wait for them to be in the same room anyway) and I don’t know what else to do but sit and cry. Which I’ve tried. 

I feel like I need to wean myself from them, but why? I mean, if (other than this hiccup) we have such a great relationship, why let that drop? I know people who go weeks without talking to their parents, and I don’t think I could do that. I think the longest I’ve gone is a week and a half. I feel so immature. And yet, I feel like there’s something else that I could reach out to to help balance things a bit, but I have no idea what it is. I’ll probably have some revelation where I realize it was God I was searching for all along, but I’m not ready for that yet. 

Right now I just want to listen to Beatles and find the comfort I know.

Declaration of Faith December 10, 2008

This is an essay I wrote for my senior high school lit class. The prompt was to write our “creed.”

*___*___*___*___*___*

Man’s mindscape in the dawn of time: questioning everything from his five fingers to why his fish died. From how to balance on his two feet to why plants grow, or even why he’s alive. Questions flood man’s mind–some questions have answers, but some will still remain mysteries thousands of years later. Grappling with potential answers becomes man’s main priority. Answers form the basis for his faiths, because he has the need to believe something.

It’s inevitable that at some point, man will discover new things that nix his original theories. Man will have to reform his beliefs according to these new ideas, because some instinct tells him that it is reasonable for his faith to be at least somewhat based on fact. 

Faith is a very personal topic, unique to every human being. But even so, we use external conflicts and situations to strengthen our beliefs. Our spirituality is shaped by the events and people around us all the time, and therefore it would stand to reason that it is constantly changing. Part of change is the process of doubt. True faith can never exist without doubt.

When someone is able to justify and defend his or her beliefs, it conveys the impression that those beliefs are powerful and well though-out. It also usually heightens the sensation of wanting to agree or disagree, which fuels argumentation and so continues a cycle of conflicts that strengthen one’s faith, as well as one’s doubts.

A period of doubt and questioning will lead to an even stronger feeling of faith. Once a person answers his or her own questions, wouldn’t they feel stronger, like their ideas were more powerful? But each phase of doubt is harder to overcome, because with the maturity of answering questions and even more (and more important) questions and responsibility to answer them. This, I believe, is the natural process of gaining one’s own unique faith. Every person has to go through it personally.

Faith has no reason or strength without a background of doubt. People need the balance of doubt to reason their way to faith. Doubt gives man the least sense of security of any other aspects of faith, so of course men would want to avoid it. But actually, doubt and questioning give and unmatchable power to a man’s faith. Men always have the choise to accept doubt, but most will ignore it, thinking that it weakens them or gives less meaning to their faith. In fact, it’s the opposite. Doubt offers more depth to a man’s understanding or journey to understanding religion or the possibility of a higher being.

It is part of human nature to doubt, argue, and solidify one’s own beliefs by any means possible, with the help of other people and situations. Having faith is part of human nature as well, but I believe that people don’t want to go through the process of questioning to achieve true faith. They feel that questioning would weaken them, or they’re afraid of the answers they may arrive at, or they’re afraid of not finding answers.

Also, I think that Christians play a big part in making questioning taboo. Many Christians believe that when people question their own spirituality or ideals in faith, it’s really the devil trying to tear apart their religious beliefs. This is wrong mostly because questioning is not evil in any way. But even if this is so — if the devil exists and is trying to break people’s faiths — it only makes it more meaningful when people overcome doubt. People might feel like they’ve defeated an inner demon. Regardless, regaining answers and beliefs should lead to an even more powerful level of spirituality.

Questioning never ends, so perhaps the time of strongest faith that humans ever have is at death. Even though there are very few people who claim to understand death, many have ideas about what happens when we die or about the possibility of an afterlife. Though these beliefs are mainly shaped by religious teachings, some are influenced by raw faith, strengthened by doubt.

The most faithful people are characterized by not only their moments of weakness, but also by times of undying love. This could mean love and optimism for mankind, or a vision that includes peace and happiness for the world. These people are also very well-balanced in their journeys through doubt and questioning, and strong in their beliefs and faiths. When people recognize that faith and doubt are inseparable, is becomes much easier to realize their full spiritual potential.