I especially liked the study of how religion was similar to general love, and how the love of a God can be similar to that of the love for a family member. I've never felt that strongly for a God if I'm honest, I believe that their essence is all around, very much in the nature, the sun, the water, the air, the earth. Though, I relate myself to Hinduism, I perceive my Gods to be representations of the elements of the world, and the personality traits that are within us all. Take, for example, Kali, the perceived God of Destruction. Alas, we all have that aspect within us, no one is absolute from having pushed themselves apart or caused destruction at some point. But as is with the case of Kali, destruction is necessary for regrowth. It's like pulling the Death card at a tarot reading - it represents a new beginning, the death of an old life. It amuses me that there are some cults out there that take the worship of Kali at face value, without delving into the very nature of why she is very much needed within the practice of Hinduism. She is not a dark God, per say, nor is she an exact representation of bad (at least not to me). She is, however, the reminder that in life there will be dark moments, there will be obstacles and hurdles, they are necessary to appreciate the good, and the light-filled moments.
I could talk for hours about how my Gods are perceived by me, be it a great bastardisation or just a twist on the common conception of what the Gods are supposed to represent. I don't think there is a wrong way to practice a religion, unless you're putting people, or yourself at harm. And in all fairness, I value all faiths, and the lack of a religion as the same thing. So long as you are doing good, you are on the right track. Whether you validate everything with straight, cold facts, or are a little open to the world on a spiritual scale, if you are doing no harm, then you are not doing anything incorrectly.
Having a mentally ill sister means I have a habit of hiding my own beliefs and faith as a delusion. I get scared and afraid that I may turn out to be like her. On a rational level, I know I was not born a psychopath and the things she tells people she sees are sought out from fiction - mainly TV shows, and whatever is in the news at the time. I also know, that she does not feel in the same way as me, if she even feels at all. Having said that, there is still that part of me that shuts down sides of me that reach out to my imagination, to my faith in an external world (even if that world is the firing of neurons, what makes it any less real than the one we think we live in right now?). I like the idea that Terry Pratchet relays in his novels, if an idea exists, then it is in creation somewhere out there, in another universe perhaps. Therefore to believe or not to believe in a God are both accurate, and similar to Schrodinger's cat God is both real and not real until we actually open that door for ourselves.
Though, I feel I have opened that door for myself. I opened my door for having such faith, the moment I opened the door to love. The faith I have extends into evaluating and appreciating the beauty of the world the minute oxytocin takes over my body. Because, it not only takes over my body, and mind, it takes over my essence, and in that moment, I truly believe in the soul, my soul. How can I not? Even more so, how can someone not believe in such a thing when they feel truly happy? It becomes everything that you are, when you are in love, it envelopes you and takes you over. But it's not stupidity, or ignorance, it's acceptance of letting someone in enough to reveal your absolute vulnerabilities. Belief in a God, is quite similar to the belief, and trust you hold in a person - it's lead by instinct, emotions and plain old blind faith.
Anyway, back to the subject on hand, As I was going through my old RS text book, I came across a poem I had written. And looking back now, I think that maybe the future me was trying to send the past me a message or something. It seems quite uncanny in some areas if I'm honest.
I titled it Heart is Home.
They came from miles around, and clambered up her stalk
They shut down engines, switched off football, just to hear her talk
They concealed their faces, didn't cry, when she told them all to walk
She'd sit and read, and listen to them pretend to weep
By Gosh, she was confused, she didn't know which one to keep
So, she sat herself down and thought for a long day
and made a cup of tea, and listened to what they had to say
And all along she'd spied those looks, and now wished they'd go away
One after another they'd repeat "You're pretty, ideal and really cute"
And soon after she'd loathe that reflection, and give them all the boot.
Another came, "You know you're gorgeous, I used to be gay"
"Please," a few would shout, "I'm willing to pay!"
She didn't know what it was, perhaps the name of Helen of Troy?
But something was at fault, she could never choose, not one boy
And one day somebody came to say - "you are who you are, you will never change
your looks will alter, your posture grow old, and perhaps your face will derange
but your personality is what captured my eye
and here I am speaking, although I am shy"
He soon said, "You're beautiful, especially on the inside"
And inside her buzzed something in her mind
"By beast" she cried "you have won my heart"
"By gosh," he replied "then I have done my part"
"But you don't understand," bellowed she
"It is you, you, who has the key"
"What?" cried he, "little old me?
But I am not rich and as rugged as stone"
"I don't care," She uttered, "For the heart is home"
I think it's amazing when someone is the inspiration for your writing, but I think it's even more special when everything you've written could so easily be about somebody before you've even had the chance to meet them. It's almost as though their essence was with you before they even physically were. What can be more magical than that?
What is time, when a few moments can feel like an eternity? When a little time really can feel like forever? And what is time of the past when the future seems to be just that, the entire future, in this life and beyond.
I've constantly held on for someone to notice me for more than my external image, to just be my friend and work their way up from there. To flow through to me naturally without a forceful rage of doing things because it's expected, but doing things because it feels right, because it feels natural.
It's weird that this poem was written literally years ago, seven years ago in fact, yet it could easily be very relevant for today.
I set myself an ambition that was beyond career or money, a lot harder to attain than career or money tbf, since it relies on being open, raw, and scarily vulnerable. And I don't ever want to lose my faith in the ability to be just that, to be refreshingly emotionally open with the right people.
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