The Crunch-Crunching

I am reminded of the crunch-crunching of hard snow underneath my feet as I make my way to wherever I am going, wearing heavy boots, the ones with furry tops on them. My winter coat is similar in its furry glory; I think that I look like an Eskimo when I pull my hood up over my head (it’ll be several years before I learn the term aboriginal or native people.)

In my mind I can hear the sound of the thin blue piece of plastic that I have dragged along the white streets to the hill. I will soon sit on top of this ‘vehicle,’ place my small hands into the two designated slots and try to go as fast as I can down the hill. The sky is black, the stars are countless, and I can see my breath. I think that it looks like I’m smoking, and that’s so cool.

I am reminded of just how early I would wake up on that morning. There was no going back to sleep, only laying there with my eyes wide open, straining to hear any sound of my parents finally – finally – getting out of bed. It truly was the most wonderful day of the year.

Briefly I remember that thick furry coat again. I can’t be older than 7, and I am on the schoolyard at recess. The girl I had a crush on gives me a kiss on my half-frozen cheek, and I am in heaven. My first reaction, though, is to run.

Fast.

As. Fast. As. I. Can.

In my mind and with my heart I can remember the Sunday School pageants. The requirements for being a wise man are very few: a bathrobe - a multi-colored striped one, easily borrowed if you didn’t have one, a long stick, and something resembling gold, frankincense, or myrrh. A small blue bottle of Aqua Velva sufficed one year.

I am reminded of that night, those nights. Because before there can be a most wonderful day of the year, there has to be a most wonderful night. The oven has grown cold after warming the cheese and crackers that were enjoyed earlier, only an hour or so after returning from the service. The last piece of chocolate from the advent calendar is hanging there, just waiting to be eaten (or it could be hanging there, just waiting to be ate, I’m not quite sure.) And the lights. The lights on the tree that have been there to open a happy, magical place in my heart for a few weeks now, they are unplugged one last time before the day. All that is left in the house by the lake is stillness. But just behind my eyes lay the dreams. The dreams and the absolutely uncontainable anticipation.

Merry, Merry Christmas, Everybody.

Simplify

Give me something simple. Let me bask in something far removed from chapters and verse, analysis and opinion. Let me live in joy and happiness and instinct, laughing out loud heartily and spelled out fully, unashamed of the grin on my face that resembles a 5 year old more than it may typically resemble a 31 year old. Intensity, burn within me and through my eyes, lighting up everything and everyone around me. Let me see them as I am, full of dreams and passions, insecurities and half-steps.

In the moment that my eyes become sullen, may it not sink my spirit nor tire it. May my spirit be that of a child, one of wonderment and learning. Laugh for seemingly no reason, more than occasionally.

Christmastime Is Here

July 21st, 2009
2:30 a.m.

It is seldom a nice occurrence when you wake up during a nights sleep; this is perhaps even more so the case when its only been two and a half hours after you first laid your head down on your pillow to drift off into dreamland. But this has just happened, and here I am with a pen in my hand. Of course the first thing that I did, as I suspect most people do when their sleep has been interrupted so rudely, is to use the facilities (by this I refer to the washroom, not a gymnasium or racquet-ball court that I have in my Kitchener apartment. ‘Using the facilities’ sounds so much better than ‘I’m going to pee.’ Anyways, I digress.) After I use the facilities, just as I’m about to make my way back into my pitch black bedroom, I smell something – okay, that sounds kind of strange since I just came from the washroom. But this was coming from the nearby bookcase in my living room, and I took the step or two to catch more of the scent. It was the hot chocolate candle that I received as a birthday gift earlier this month. I bent over and took a deep breath in.

And it was Christmastime.

I haven’t lit the candle much at all yet, as it seems to be more suited for the winter, but the scent is so strong that you smell it almost every time you leave the living room heading into another part of the apartment. But your senses can often be dulled or asleep, or you just get so accustomed to smells and sounds that you get to where you don’t even notice them anymore. However, this night at two thirty in the morning, I took in the scent of the candle and it is Christmas. You see, it’s a deep, rich hot chocolate, one that you’d sip as you cozied up under a blanket on the couch, just under the window. On the other side of the window the snow is falling heavy and hard, and you know that in the morning there will be a tonne of the white stuff that you’ll have to trudge your way through if the sidewalks haven’t yet been cleared.

But that’s tomorrow.

Tonight you’re inside, with Christmas lights as the main source of illumination in the room, along with the small candles on the bookshelves, on the coffeetable, and in the windowsills, and the bright black and white images of Alastair Sim or Jimmy Stewart coming as alive as they do each and every year. This day has been filled with running around doing some last minute gift shopping while listening to Bing Crosby sing “It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas” on your iPod, or perhaps Enya, which brings an entirely different feeling, one that is heart-breakingly beautiful, sort of like what you experienced earlier on in the night when all the candles were lit in the old church and the choir was making its way down the center aisle singing “Silent Night” with no other instrumentation.

It’s magic.

But now you’re inside, sipping hot chocolate in your pajamas on a cold winters night, and somewhere just beneath your skin you feel the anticipation and you have no doubt that tomorrow really is the most wonderful day of the year. Tomorrow there may be the joy of watching children with their pure innocence and awe-struck eyes as they gather with uncombed hair under a tree, ready to shred shiny paper off of their presents. But tonight you’re here with your mug of rich hot chocolate, and you could live in this moment for a very very long time.

Christmastime was here, on this summers night, if but for a moment.

Time to go back to sleep.

Of G-Strings, Geordi, & Goodness

May 11, 2009

This afternoon I find myself in a very nice coffee shop in the town in which I was born. It's a little cool, and it has clouded over since I took the walk in this morning. At the window-side booth directly behind me, two older ladies are having a conversation, which has included the topic of women's underwear, specifically G-strings.

"Well, they must be for the men, because they sure can't be comfortable!"

"I guess there's no pantylines."

Kind of an odd conversation to be listening to, particularly from two older ladies. Anyways, that's completely unrelated to what I want to write about.

The other night I came across the movie Star Trek: Insurrection on TV. The old Star Trek movies have been on everywhere, leading up to the release of the new film. If you're not familiar with Insurrection, which you can be excused for, in a nutshell it's about the crew of the Enterprise traveling to a planet with age-reversing qualities and trying to save the inhabitants from being re-located. Overall it's not one of my favourite Trek movies, but there's one scene involving Geordi Laforge that I really like. Now if you don't know who Geordi Laforge is, well that is unforgivable and I will promptly remove you from my Facebook friend list...But to provide a context, Geordi is the blind engineer who for years used a visor in order to see, and in the movie has upgraded to some sort of ocular implants. As the ship arrives in orbit of the planet, Geordi starts experiencing headaches and dizziness; obviously something is wrong with the implants. Or so it seems. The rest of the crew begins to experience age-reversing qualities. Captain Picard mambos in his quarters, Riker has new-found energy, which unsurprisingly raises his always high libido. But then there's the scene with Geordi. The screen shows him standing on a hill on the planet, breathing deeply and in wonder as he watches the sunset...with his own eyes. The captain approaches him, and Geordi tells him "it turns out there wasn't something wrong, there was something right." His ocular nerves had regenerated, he was perfectly fine. And there he was, enjoying his first sunset, drinking it up.

Geordi's experience in this movie makes me think of how it can be with many of us. Various things happen to each of us from the time we are born, all throughout our lives, and often we can get that unsettled feeling. That feeling that something is wrong.

There are many reasons why we can have this feeling. One might be an unhappy or unhealthy home life while growing up, where we can feel that things just aren't the way that they are supposed to be. This is perhaps the most deep-seated reason for many people's ongoing feelings of trouble. For some children, this can continue as they become self-conscious and start comparing themselves to other kids on the schoolyard. They see that their peers have more "stuff" than they do - nicer clothes, more popular friends, the latest technological items, and they surmise that there is something wrong with them because they don't have them. These comparisons continue well into adulthood of course.

Something is wrong.

Yet another powerful reason that people can have this feeling has to do with religious belief. The origin of life story that is set out in the Bible tells of a man and woman who had it all, perfection in Eden, until they disobeyed God. At this time God banished them from the garden. The thought continued, and is still believed today, that every man and woman born into this world ever since are "sinful." It isn't much of a leap for many, I suspect, to go from "Humans are originally sinful," to "Humans are bad at their core," to "I am bad." This belief can greatly re-inforce a child's, or anyone's, already existing belief and anxiety that things aren't right.

Something is Wrong.

Whatever the reasons we have for our unsettled feelings, if they remain within us, I think we will always be looking for ways to make things right. This is different than healthy ambition, or striving to achieve new things or reach goals. This wondering, wondering how we can make things better, among other things it robs us of being in the present moment. But that's a whole other subject.

How do we try to counter this gnawing feeling that something is wrong? Children may try many things, from being as obedient as they possibly can at home, to running faster or achieving the highest level at anything they do, at school or during other activities. Religious people, of varying belief systems, try to obey the rules they believe they must obey in order to be good, or safe. In this particular case, in regards to religion, rather than believing something because it rings true deeply within themselves, they are doing something else. They are layering something which they are taught is good, over something that they believe is wrong, or bad, and that belief is a lie that is covering something else. Their - our - very core. For far too many, this all becomes a race that can never end, a struggle that can never be won. It leads to an unbearable life. It's like having a cake in front of you that is really quite delicious, but for some reason you aren't quite satisfied with it. So you, or someone else, adds another layer, which turns out to not taste very good. It continues. You, or someone else, adds another layer. And while that may make it taste better, now the cake is far too dense. Really, the original cake was absolutely fine. It was good. Nothing was wrong.

Nothing is Wrong.

You are not bad.

You are good, right at your very core.

So how do we achieve this? How do we get to this place, where something is not wrong? There are many things that can aid us on our journey. Meditation, music, good friends and a glass of wine, spirituality, ideas from religions and books, etc. But I think for a lot of people, the moment you try to "make yourself a better person" by listening to, or reading, or believing any of these things, that can become just another part of the endless race. I think maybe the most important thing is to stop.

Stop trying to become a good person. You are a good person. You have been since the very second you were born into this world. Stop the struggle, refuse to fight that which feels wrong because nothing is wrong.

Stop layering things onto yourself, instead strip things away, and see yourself at your very core.

It turns out nothing is wrong. Something is right.

God Rides Public Transit

Have you heard of the controversial ad-campaign produced by the Free Thought Association of Canada that simply states, “There’s probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life.” These ads are now appearing on Toronto transit buses and subway cars, while being rejected in some cities such as Halifax and most recently Ottawa.

When I first heard about this campaign I thought, “Good for you, you go get ‘em Free Thought Association of Canada!” What is the FAC about? According to their website, they are a “non-profit organization promoting education and outreach and the principles of various secular worldviews,” which include atheism, agnosticism, humanism, and skepticism. The goal of their “Atheist Bus” campaign (atheistbus.ca) is to “raise awareness of the presence of non-believers in our country, to make it okay for people to step out of the closet,” and also to “open up communication between faith communities and secular organizations,” a dialogue which Free Thought says is terribly lacking.

Anyways, there’s a lot that I like about the ad. Firstly, the words could be speaking to adherents of the various religions that bicker back and forth about doctrine, challenging them to tone things down a bit, though I doubt that many will suddenly agree that there is no God at all. Or the words could speak to people who are trying to jump through the various hoops they jump through in attempting to please a separate, all-powerful deity who is keeping a close watch on them from above. You know, the sort of Santa-God: “He sees you when you’re sleeping, He knows when you’re awake; He knows if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake!” I think that more than a few people view God this way. ‘God has a standard, I fall terribly short, so I’ve got to find ways to shape up. Living this way, with a deep sense or belief that one falls short or doesn’t measure up seems quite unhealthy to me. God can become the ultimate projection of low self-worth, and activities such as church services and prayer can become means by which people try to assuage this belief. If it’s between this God and no God at all, then bring on the free-thinkers.

Now, in response to this ad campaign, the United Church of Canada has countered with their own version: “There probably is a God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life.” In a letter to clergy and United Church members, the moderator states that their campaign is also meant to encourage discussion. “Clearly, as Christians, we most definitely believe there is a God,” writes The Right Rev. David Giuliano. “ (We) see this as an opportunity to delve more deeply into what it really means when Christians say they believe in God. I would encourage you to bring your faith to this conversation wherever it arises.”

While the moderator states that it is the church’s intention to join the conversation, I think that more than a few people may see their counter-campaign simply as a defense of a deity who is more or less separate from humanity and life in general. Many people do not believe in this type of God anymore, including many United Church members. So I think that churches need to make attempts to present a different view of
God. If the counter-campaign leads to deeper conversation, it could be a good thing. There are a few other steps that I believe should be taken if Christians or any other religious adherents want to engage the world.

The first step is to take the “I’m the King of the Castle” belief and throw it on the scrap heap. For sure, most Christian churches and leaders have toned down or eliminated the damnation, or ‘dirty rascal’ language that was once prevalent, but the notion of original sin is unfortunately still believed in and taught. But any notion of “My religion is better than your religion,” or “My God is bigger than your God” has got to go.

Once this step is taken, sincere dialogue at the very least, and ideally co-operation and strong friendship between different faith groups can occur. This is more than tolerance. People of different faiths can see each other as equals, each on a unique path but fundamentally connected. One thing that turns people off from organized religion is the arguing that goes on between people of different faiths, and this would go a long way in having people take a second look at these religions.

But perhaps the most important thing is to present a view of God that does not involve an entirely separate deity. What kind of God is being offered to people? Is “He” solely seen in religious books or on Sunday mornings? Or is God the spirit behind and in all things, meeting us in the eyes of a stranger or in the fury of a thunderstorm, or in an embrace? I believe that God, or Life or Love or Spirit, is actually within each of us; the teacher, the waiter, the single parent, the imam. And this may be the message about God that many are looking for. What would the response be if we approached others with language such as, “You are important, and you already have God inside of you. Now let’s sit down, have a drink, and we’ll exchange our stories.”

That may not easily fit on the side of a bus, but it may do some good.

My, How You've Grown

There was a time when I thought I had you figured out. Or at least I had a good enough idea of who you were and what you expected, and I tried to live with you.

But You are more.

I thought I knew your name. Or make that names, all three of them. But now I am learning.

You are Father, Son and Holy Spirit. You are He, You are She, You are Mother. You are Love, You are Peace, You are Life.

I thought I knew where to find your words. But you have written in so many places. You are in the Bhagavad-Gita, You are in the Qu’ran. You are in aboriginal texts and stories. You are in the New Testament and You are in the Torah…I’m not so sure about Leviticus.

You are in my journal.

I thought I knew how to hear your voice. I tried very hard to hear it and to obey it… But I didn’t, I couldn’t realize that your voice and my voice sound remarkably alike.

My, how You’ve grown.

You are not confined to one name, one book, one path, one worldview. I see you when I see small babies with their little smiles and floppy heads and arms and legs. I see you in the unexpected smile of a complete stranger as I walk down the street.

You are all Power, with more might than a thousand storms and You are more thunderous than countless drums beating at the same time. Yet You are in a whisper, a glance, in the simple chorus of a song.

You dance through history, and have had thousands, millions of faces. Moses, Noah, Peter, Paul, Mary…Joni Mitchell. Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, Mother Teresa, Martin Luther King Jr, Gandhi. The postal worker, the single Mom, the cashier, the doctor. Me.

Your love has no limits, even when my understanding does. It is there between mother and son, between sisters, between husband and husband. You raise your hand enthusiastically as to say “Present!” whenever barriers are broken, prejudices are abandoned, and when equality is fought for and realized.

You inspire me to push beyond the limitations I see today, yet you are not ashamed of them. Your gale-force power gently nudges me, encouraging me to move forward.

When I try to hand over the reins of my life to You, You hand them back to me, calling me to a new level of trust.

You are at the heart of me and You are beautiful.

I am You and You are Me.

My, How You’ve Grown.

Two Tables Over

I haven't been to Starbucks in quite awhile, but here I am, drinking a cup of Pike Place Roast. A few minutes ago, before I popped in my earphones and began listening to Celine Dion and Peabo Bryson, I intermittently listened in on some of the conversation going on two tables over from me.

My ears tend to perk up whenever surrounding conversations turn religious. They were talking about a few things, including a Bible college, possibly even the one I went to several years ago. Another topic that came up was church planting. I have varying thoughts on this, and evangelism in general.

My initial thought when I heard them talking about church plants was that perhaps they are like bunnies; they can't really help themselves, and spend all of their time reproducing or at least trying to (I'm talking about churches, not the couple having the conversation. I don't think they were married, therefore they weren't having sex, of course.) Maybe churches reproduce because they simply think that's what they're supposed to do. After all, there's the great commission that has Jesus telling his followers to go out into all the world and make disciples of everyone. So people go out into the whole world, trying to bring people into the Christian family, sort of like Angelina Jolie goes out into the whole world and brings children into the Jolie-Pitt family.

Let me start out by being positive (no, don't call a doctor.) I have no problem with evangelism if the goal is to help people realize their full potential and to genuinely want to see people live fulfilling lives. There is a while lot of good accomplished by Christian people - many mouths are fed, scores of homes built, many bracelet manufacturers' bottom lines are improved.

I believe that many, if not most Christians have good intentions when setting off on evangelistic work.

A big problem I have is when doctrine becomes involved, when well intentioned people assume that they know the exact road to a more fulfilling and whole life, and then proceed to try to graft these doctrines onto every soul and mind, even if they are completely foreign and incompatible with the other person.

It is no one's job to be the bringer of some packaged truth to another who does not have truth within them. It is no one's job to bring goodness to another who does not contain goodness within them. For each person alive contains truth, as well as goodness within them. Because of this, I believe that any religious dialogue that takes place between people should be just that, a dialogue. It should be a conversation between two equals, both of whom contain God within them and are on their own spiritual journeys. Together they, we, can learn form each other, and we can bring thoughts and ideas that can help the other to lead a more fulfilling and whole life. Some of our experiences and thoughts will resonate with others, some will not. That's absolutely fine. Truth, unlike the scarf that I wrap around my neck, is not one-size-fits-all.

In closing, again, I'm sure that many Christians and those of other faiths who evangelize have good intentions. I just think that it is vital to remember that the person sitting across the table has plenty of goodness within them as well.