LJ Idol, week 16: Coloring Outside the Lines

[rm]

I have a year I call The Black Year wherein I spent a great deal of time in St. Patrick's Cathedral and prayed a novena to St. Jude. And while my father is, officially speaking, Catholic, I was not raised with or within the church. My mother is Jewish and taught me the Hebrew alphabet with a plastic bubble of a device with a button on the top that scrolled through the letters when clicked.

Religion, though, was just a home thing, a family thing, and an awkward, all-consuming, freaky one at that. My father changed religions every two years when I was growing up. He had a guru and then a swami, read the Book of Mormon, was Muslim, attended Theosophy and now self-publishes the poetry he writes in the voice of Jesus.

It's a strange sort of relief that it's not just my father; the whole family is cracked. He has a sister who is mentally unwell and talks to Jesus, conversationally, at socially inappropriate times. And my late cousin was in the Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh's cult and was allowed to wear no other color but red. As a child I wondered if it was to signify desire, but I never had the nerve to ask.

Religion is the family madness, and for all my lack of faith, I have always sort of aspired to taking orders, in the -- let's be clear, here -- spiritually devotional sense. Nothing gives me a charge in places it's not quite polite to talk about in casual company about than the hideous complexity of vows.

Maybe I watched too much of The Flying Nun as a child or maybe I just wanted the Virgin Mary for a friend when I was twelve and visiting the cathedrals of Montreal, I don't really know. But ritual -- formal and high -- calls to me not like a siren, but like that asshole ex-boyfriend who knows you're always going to be good for one more fuck.

To be frank, I'm a bit uncomfortable with it, but mostly because for me, asceticism has always been some sort of strange and easy slide that no one was ever present to help me govern. Even so, it's also always been one of those things I like about myself best.

There is a clarity in living to a bell and a sensuality to things that are basic: the components of food, the weave of fabric, the rarity of speech. I've lived that way enough to know its truth -- even if it was in many cases only by virtue of inappropriate bargaining: I want this success; I want this lover returned; I want this financial woe solved.

And that, right there, of course, is why I'd never make any sort of decent postulant (original meaning quite aside) at all. I'm a bargainer, through and through. In fifth grade I told God I'd never ask for anything else if he gave me the role of Ko-ko in The Mikado. He kept up his end, but I didn't keep up mine, and even though I don't really believe in him particularly (I figure we're probably equally fictive to each other and if you want to try to sort through that paradox, be my guest) I still feel a bit bad about it.

In all sorts of ways that freak me out I am not unlike my completely batshit family. I go to Catholic Mass when I feel bereft; I go to pujas with Amma, the hugging saint, when I feel in need of strange signs. I have helped to raise stone circles and recited the names of rather unlikely saints. And I've made peace with animal-headed gods who seem to have a use for me whether I like it or not.

I don't talk about it, hardly ever. And when I do, I laugh about it, quite sincerely. It is ridiculous! And the religions that would have me are not harsh enough, not high enough, not full of the drama that grants me the grace of an economy of motion or a week without speech. It amuses me really, to live between worlds in yet one more way. I am afraid of dogs, but Anubis is my guardian of the road.

So I take my rough cloth and simple food in other places.

I take it in fencing and in dance; after all, I first learned to pray when I was eleven through the contraction of my pelvis and the baring of my throat in the supplications of Martha Graham's choreography.

I take it in Guitar Craft, where we always say "instructor" and never "teacher," lest someone like me lose easy perspective.

And I take it in the shape of my partner's absence when she goes on digs and my devotion to anything that has ever broken my heart.

I take it in my service to lives that have never been, and the ache in my knees when I pray in churches that would not have me and museums whose purpose I mistake.

I take it in the longing I can feel towards head coverings and prairie dresses, vestments and habits.

I take it in the way I've learned to walk barefoot so that each toe hits the ground individually and in quick succession, smallest to the largest, for it is not the ability to worship that I crave, but these acts of order in the face of the chaos of my flesh and fascinations, my hopes and simply terrible housekeeping.

It is beauty in details and precision, even if I pray the way planes go on the tarmac, not inside the lines, but right down the bright and sinful center of them.

Comments

[theafaye.livejournal.com]

I don't see anything sinful in what you describe (not that I buy into the notion of sin anyway). The Gods are a lot more accepting of 'alternative' devotions than frequently given credit for. After all, the Gods are in the detail :o)

[imafarmgirl.livejournal.com]

I agree, and nice entry.

[marchek.livejournal.com]

In fifth grade I told God I'd never ask for anything else if he gave me the rol eof Ko-ko in the Mikado.

The one time I distinctly remember bargaining with God was when I was nine. I promised I would never ask for anything else if He got my family to the restaurant on time for my father's birthday dinner. Seriously, I bargained with God because I couldn't bear the thought of being late. How messed up is that? We were late and they almost gave away the reservation.

for it is not the ability to worship that I crave, but these act of order in the face of the chaos of my flesh and fascinations, my hopes and simply terrible housekeeping

Brilliantly written.

[rm.livejournal.com]

OH hey, and now I fixed typos!

And seriously -- your bargaining with God thing? That's going to wind up in a Ianto fic. Because it's so awesomely cracked.

Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh's

[stardragonca.livejournal.com]

Was that the chap with community in Oregon?

Re: Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh's

[rm.livejournal.com]

Ayup. and the Rolls Royces.

Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh's Rolls Royces.

[stardragonca.livejournal.com]

89. Because an even eight dozen would be OSTENTATIOUS.

these acts of order in the face of the chaos

[stardragonca.livejournal.com]

Thank you for sharing this part of yourself.
I feel privileged.
You do not refer to it directly, but surely your writing is a devotion to meaning in the face of absurdity.

[supremegoddess1.livejournal.com]

This was immensely poetic and I enjoyed it a lot.

Religion was such a queer bird for us growing up. We were raised agnostic, but it wasn't ever discussed. "Religion" only existed when my grandmother came to visit and we went to mass to please her. I didn't believe or not believe, I just didn't think about it.

Some days I am desperate to belong to something greater than myself even as I scoff at those who prostrate themselves to a cause.

[finding_helena]

I can identify with the draw to ascetism. I've definitely been through that.

[libgirl.livejournal.com]

I know I'm knew to your flist ~waves~. I know you vaguely from various fandoms and we have some friends in common, but I friended you because of the grace and strength of your writing. It's simply beautiful.

This entry resonated very deeply with me because, although I am not in a organized religion, I have a craving for the order and ritual of that type of thing. I identified with much of what you said, thanks for sharing.

[coriander.livejournal.com]

It seems your call to "religion" is a very physical, tangible thing... Very interesting. The wearing of the clothes, the walking, the rituals...

My deal with God came in the 8th grade for "The Sound of Music" playing Mother Abbess. Your story brought this to memory, and made me chuckle.

[shipchan.livejournal.com]

When I was realy little (4 or so) I use to think I could become invisible to God for periods of time. Later when I was middle school I use to sit in the back of Chatholic masses and hope no one could see me. Religion is a tricky fish, I think, especially when it intermingles with real life.

[alumiere.livejournal.com]

i don't often comment and i resolutely don't belive in god/gods/goddesses except in terms of mythology, but this is wonderfuly written (as is much of your other writing)

some days i wish i could believe in something beyond human life, but in my world if such things exist then they're fucking sadistic bastards/bitches who don't deserve worship in any form

none-the-less i do understand the desire (?) to some extent, and applaud your ability to discuss it

[shadowwolf13]

I love the way you pray and the way you write.

[wcg.livejournal.com]

Have you read the writings of St. Teresa of Avila? If you haven't you might find you like what she has to say.

[coyotegoth.livejournal.com]

To my dying day, I'll be bitter toward the Methodist church for the reaction of my Sunday school teacher (almost certainly there since the Eisenhower years), when I asked in all seriousness if heaven was Communist.

[rm.livejournal.com]

And what was this reaction?

[coyotegoth.livejournal.com]

A hideous and unfair public scolding from her; tears and a vow- which I kept- never to go to church again from me, after storming out in a huff and walking home (I was eight or nine)(to be fair, I *was* a smartass, but it was an absolutely serious question).

[alycewilson.livejournal.com]

Lovely. This reminds me of the Emily Dickinson poem: "Some keep the Sabbath going to Church -- / I keep it, staying at Home -- / With a Bobolink for a Chorister -- / And an Orchard, for a Dome."

[baxaphobia.livejournal.com]

This was wonderful.

[deza.livejournal.com]

One of the things I love about full coven rituals is the pageantry of it all.

[jenandbronze.livejournal.com]

Although i grew up christian, my beliefs changed, and am not sure where I fit, for the time being. interesting entry.

[solstice-singer.livejournal.com]

This was beautiful! Religion is a tricky thing. I, too, crave ritual, and I suppose that's why I've found peace with the Goddess.

[walkertxkitty.livejournal.com]

You have a nice turn of words here. It really waxes poetic, something I'd not previously seen you do in your writing. Well done!

[brightflashes.livejournal.com]

You wow me. On multidimensional levels. Your writing really captures your personality and it's such a vivid and strongly unique personality. I love this entry and I look forward to reading your work every week. : )

[spydielives.livejournal.com]

"I take it in the longing I can feel towards head coverings and prairie dresses, vestments and habits."

I relate especially to this line.

[caersidi.livejournal.com]

I am also afraid of dogs and yet have a good relationship with Anubis.

[abbismom.livejournal.com]

You've hit it out of the ballpark again. This is when you shine...when your writing is approachable enough to relate to but still has your unique voice. Brilliant.

[puppetmaker40.livejournal.com]

Bargaining with G-d is a given for Catholics. That and going to pray to Mary when you don't think G-d is listening because she's the mom and can go talk to her son.

Order within Chaos is probably the best we are going to get in this world. I find people whose houses are so precise that it looks like a museum exhibit usually have some form of chaos going on in another part of their lives so they control their environment to a fair-thee-well.

I liked this. It gave me something to think about so I came back and read it a couple of time walking away and reading it again.

You always give me something to churn over.

[demotu.livejournal.com]

I have a funny relationship with religion, and a lot of this rings true for me. This comment is going to probably be longer than I mean it to be, so I apologize for it right off the bat.

I was raised in the Church. My parents are easygoing but theologically educated and believing Presbyterians, and I loved my church. The community of it, the inter-generational aspect, the service that could spring out of it, the atmosphere of sitting in the pews and hearing the voices of the (really excellent, I am spoiled for churches with crappy choirs) choir rise in jubilation... nothing can beat it. I firmly believe the secular world is lacking something for not having those kind of spaces. Spaces that go further than church - the deepest conversations I have ever had, with a group or one other people, the most open and intellectual and wide-ranging and inspiration, are with people I have met through the church, either at church camp or youth group meetings or socially.

Leaving the church was the hardest thing I have ever done. I didn't believe in Jesus The Son Of God, or in their sort of God, or especially in Dogma, and I knew staying was cutting me in half and deceiving others. I am so happy I did, but I still miss that space. It left a hole in me - not a spiritual hole, I think my spirituality is better for having left, but a communal and a ritual hole.

There is nothing like singing hymns to God in the dark, around a campfire in the woods.
There is nothing like the Church on Christmas Eve, with the candlelight and the pure joy of Joy To The World sung by hundreds.
There is nothing like the peace of an empty sanctuary.

I too am attracted to those things you speak of, those rituals. Ascetism, isolation, prayer, silence, hymns, focus, self-sacrifice, faith, even. know someday I will find a way to have those things, again, on my own terms in a way that fits into what I believe about the world. I think it will take some more distancing from the Church, first, but I feel good about my path. Happy with it. Hopeful about it.

On a note about ascetism, there is a Christian (and Canadian) magazien called Geez (Holy mischief in an age of fast faith) that is really, really fabulous. Young, aware spiritual Christianity, of a sort. Their second issue was on ascetism and some of the essays in there were fabulous. Another book I'd reccommend that would probably speak to you on this level, though it has some uncomfortable notes about sexuality and gender underlying it, would be The Irresistible Revolution, which is about this one man's journey to what is essentially a modern monkhood, a modern commune.