Spirituality, Part I

I haven’t written for quite awhile, so I’ve decided to jump right in and talk about one of the two taboos: religion. I’m not very religious anymore, but I am by no means an atheist or even agnostic. I’m quite spiritual and consider myself to be very open minded. I’m wary of anything that claims to have a monopoly on absolute truth.

I need to begin at the beginning. This will take several entries.

I was adopted (at birth) into a fairly conservative Christian family and I don’t have any problems with that. It’s my history and part of what has made me the way I am today. The first church I remember attending was a CMA (Christian Missionary Alliance) church. I think it’s moderately conservative in the Protestant spectrum, although my family only attended there until I was almost five years old. Then we moved. Over the next two years, I went to school at a private school run by the Assemblies of God (which is basically über-conservative) and we attended a Baptist church occasionally, which is also on the right-hand side in the Protestant denominations. Through the end of kindergarten, I went to church and Sunday school, attended a Christian school, and watched ample amounts of Bible cartoons. Then we moved again.

It was the church we moved to afterwards that I stayed at until I was 22. Then the shit hit the fan. But I’m going to talk about the intervening years first because there’s a lot to tell. This church was a non-denominational one, which means it’s once again pretty far to the right of the Christian spectrum. In elementary school, we learned about inviting Jesus into your heart, going to Vacation Bible School (VBS), praying to God, and watching loads of Bible cartoons at Sunday school. I still marvel how I didn’t get stories like Jonah and the Whale and Jack and the Beanstalk mixed up.

Anyway, the summer after sixth grade was transformative. I had been going to church summer camps for the previous two summers, but for whatever reason, I got really freaked out that year that I would be going to hell if I died. I had just moved up to the junior high youth group at church and didn’t know anyone. To top it off, I was just about to begin junior high and I knew I was rather awkward and probably wouldn’t be in the “popular” crowd. I went to two church summer camps that year and during the latter, I got baptized. I think I had finally convinced myself and felt secure that I was, in fact, “saved.”

This was a horrible way to begin junior high. I went to church every Sunday and now that I was “religious,” every Wednesday night, too. Whereas in elementary school, we learned standard Bible stories and very little theology, now we were being told what to believe about the modern world. Suddenly, we were being persecuted for our beliefs. It was inevitable that we would be learning about the dreaded evolution in science class, but we must remain strong and believe that God had created the entire universe in six literal days no more than 6,000 years ago. (Despite whatever ALL the branches of science had to say about the matter.) We had to get all of our friends and classmates saved, bring them to church parties and crusades, especially the Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses. Back in the mid to late 90s, there weren’t very many Muslims or Hindus to be reached, although one did run across the occasional Jew. In short, now that we were teenagers, we were at war with the world.

We were also at war with ourselves. No one but us had the truth. Catholics were damned. No one knew who the Eastern Orthodox were and they were never mentioned at all. The Jews were probably going to hell. Everyone else, no matter how well-meaning, were going to be damned to hell. Also, homosexuality was obviously a sin because the Bible said so. (The Bible also condones slavery, but how many Christians are advocating that nowadays?) Relationships were frowned upon or discouraged because they could obviously lead to premarital sex. I think junior high is probably too young to be having sex, but at least allow kids to experiment within reason! I mean, I had the whole NO SEX BEFORE MARRIAGE so crammed down my throat that I’m a 27-year old virgin! Granted, I’ve never been in a romantic relationship, but it’s probably because of the near brainwashing I received for so long during my teenage years.

After completing eighth grade, I started going on summer mission trips, like every good Christian teenager. Most kids go to Mexico or something; we went to Oregon. There were a lot of Mexican migrant workers there and loads of their kids to run Vacation Bible School for. It’s no wonder that attending church two to three times a week, participating in countless summer camps, retreats, and mission trips, and constantly inviting loads of friends and acquaintances from school to go to church with me, I would be just a little bit shunned in junior high. I was the Jesus girl and not only was it not cool, it was repulsive to people. Most people have no problem with Jesus. Actually, they rather like the guy. They don’t like Christians who shove Jesus at people as though they have the only set of keys to Him.

Then I moved on to high school. Those tails will ensue with Part II.

Autumn, Chu'Seok, and Robert Frost

I love autumn. October is my favourite month of the year. All the colours of the leaves are beautiful. And the weather is usually enjoyable enough. Not to mention my favourite holiday is Halloween. I pass the month watching scary movies, celebrating, and finding some type of outrageous Halloween costume. And since I used to work at Starbucks, I usually partake of the Pumpkin Spice Lattés and Pumpkin Crème Cheese muffins.

However, this autumn is different. This October is different. Because I am in South Korea. Teaching English. There will be no Thanksgiving this year, apart from Chu’Seok. Chu’Seok isKorea’s version of Thanksgiving and it is happening today. To honour Chu’Seok, the hagwon director gave every teacher an entire crate of grapes. How am I supposed to eat twelve large bunches of grapes before they go bad? One word: freezer. Now I can eat grapes in January. Ingenious.

The leaves have not begun to change yet. It’s still unbelievably warm for autumn. And humid as fuck. And I need to purchase some autumn clothes. I found some sweet leather boots on etsy.com. I just hope I don’t look like a Larper.

To finish, I like poetry. Especially Robert Frost. Robert Frost reminds me of autumn. I will not post “The Road Not Taken” because it’s so overdone. But this poem of his is fittingly called, “October.” And with that, I welcome autumn to South Korea. And I’m ready to partake of some kimchi. Happy Chu’Seok!

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
To-morrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
To-morrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow,
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know;
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away;
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes' sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost--
For the grapes' sake along the wall.

Tribal Fusion Bellydance

In the past, I have toyed with learning bellydance techniques, but never got very far in my practice. (I can’t shoulder shimmy.) Later, I turned to ballet and started taking a few classes over three years or so, but then I hurt my foot. I still don’t know how I did it and neither did any of the doctors I went to see, but it hinders me from doing ballet as much as I used to. To make a long and boring story short, suffice it to say that I’ve let myself get terribly out of shape and I get rather disgusted when I see myself in the mirror.

I am also becoming somewhat of an insomniac. It’s nearly 6am here in Jeonju and I’m not even a little bit tired. I overslept every day this weekend and now I can’t sleep at all. Anyway, while I was whiling away the wee hours, I came across something mesmerising on YouTube, which is one of my favourite places to waste time. It was Rachel Brice and I am now in love with tribal fusion bellydance. She has inspired me to learn this particular type of dance. Hopefully the DVD will find its way safely through customs to me in the SK (South Korea). *fingers crossed*

Enjoy the vid. It’s the very one that inspired me.

I've Been Away

I’ve been away for some time. I do apologise for the vast amount of people who are hungrily reading my blog. (sarcasm intended.) I moved to South Korea to teach English and have finally become accustomed enough to my surroundings to begin blogging again. Pictures, stories, and thoughts on life are soon to ensue.

The Gypsy Bohemian

Here is my Bohemian persona: the Gypsy!

By Laren Stover, excerpt from “The Bohemian Manifesto”

These are the expatriate types. They create their own Gypsy nirvana wherever they go. They are folksy flower children, hippies, psychedelic travelers, fairy folk, dreamers, Deadheads, Phish fans, medievalists, anachronistic throwbacks to a more romantic time. They may listen to Joan Baez, Marianne Faithfull, early Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, and Captain Beefheart but more than likely they make their own music, even if it’s playing the spoons.

Gypsies scatter like seeds on the wind, don’t own a watch, show up on your doorstep and disappear into the night. They’re happy to sleep in your barn and may have without you even knowing it. They are comfortable living out of cars and vans and are nondigital. The only time line they can rely on is the one on your palm, which they will undoubtedly read, either that or they’ll cast your chart, tell your fortune, or do your numbers. Gypsies like jobs that they can pack up in a bag, or not pack at all. They are painters (canvases and houses), muralists (the ones with a baby strapped to them while they paint), sign painters for small establishments, dancers, singers, actors, and musicians. Other Gypsy jobs include juggling, carpentry, leather tooling, jewelry making, and midwifery.

Gypsies also give lessons: music, singing, dance, especially tango and belly dancing, painting, sculpting, welding, language, horseback riding, fencing, and stage combat. When they set their mind to it they get extra work in films and an occasional theatre piece. They play Gypsy, tango, chamber, and medieval and Celtic music for parties and weddings, and of course they play on the street.

They know a little about a lot of things, like how to milk a goat and what to feed a wild abandoned baby animal, how to fix a carnival ride, make candles and soap.

It is not wise to play cards with them.

Gypsies wear the traditional clothing of their native country when it’s considered quaint and out of style and embrace their lost heritages. They will also embrace a new heritage. They costume themselves after lost cultures and forgotten times. They practice crafts on the verge of extinction: stone carving and masonry, glass-blowing, papermaking, paper marbling, stained glass, frescoes and encaustic. They hand make their own violins, mandolins, and dulcimers. They love pocket instruments and play the pennywhistle, recorder, Jew’s harp, and kazoo. The largest thing they own, besides their vehicle, may be a harp or potter’s wheel. They’d rather tell stories than read them.

Their books will be Beowulf, The Tales of Genji, Grimms’ fairy tales, Dracula, poetry by Robert Burns and Sir Walter Scott, The Sibyl by Pär Lagerkvist, Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis, biographies of Augustus John and small leather-bound books with faded covers and crumbling tea-colored pages that are at least a hundred years old. Never magazines or newspapers, except for the classifieds.

They make wind chimes out of old silverware or broken pottery. Mix their own essential oils, grow their own herbs, embroider their clothing, crochet their own clothing, build little houses in old tree stumps for elves. They may even decide to settle down later in life and form a commune with other like-minded Bohemians. Here they will keep goats and sheep and make yogurt and cheese. They will keep bees and sell honey. Their children will be tutored at home and on the road and run around naked and free. Good luck trying to figure out the family tree.

Artist Profile: Bright Eyes

Such a lovely song. And an even lovelier music video.

Religion, Easter, and Spirituality: Some Kind of Treatise

I am so tired of religion. And especially religious hypocrites. So. Fucking. Tired.

It’s quite insightful that the next chapter that is the endless saga of the Catholic priest abuse scandal broke just before Holy Week. Juxtaposed is the selfless, sacrificial love of Jesus and the selfish and self-righteous attitudes of some priests pretending to follow in His footsteps.

Personally, I have come a long way from the religious atmosphere I was exposed to as a child and what I experienced throughout my teens and early twenties.

Mainly, I was influenced by a fundamentalist/evangelical Protestant non-denominational Christianity. It was drilled into my theology that Catholics weren’t really Christians and anyone who had not “asked Jesus into their heart” were probably (definitely) going to spend an eternity suffering in the fires of hell. In junior high and high school, we were encouraged to bring our “unsaved” friends to evangelical crusades and expose them to Christianity. The more students we got into church on Sunday mornings, Wednesday nights, and all the events in between, the better. Quantity was of the utmost importance; never mind the quality. Jesus was all about entertainment.

I was subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) influenced to have a conservative ideology of the world … both in religion and politics. I can remember sermons in high school and college condemning homosexuals, abortion, and President Clinton. We needed to “take America back for Jesus.” (Whatever the fuck that means.)

In college, things got even worse … for awhile. 9/11 occurred one week before I moved on campus at a conservative Christian college. People all over the country (and at my university) were afraid and throwing their faith behind God and country, as embodied by President Bush. Americans were angry and wanted revenge on the Muslim extremists who had destroyed the World Trade Center, killed thousands of civilians, and attacked (as we were told) our freedoms. They just couldn’t stand our liberty and freedom. (I’m sure that’s the only reason they aren’t fond of us.)

I had been so brainwashed by my environment, by the constant media scare-tactics, and by the conservative Christian belief in the End Times being upon us (thanks Left Behind), that I was completely supportive of a US-led invasion of Iraq to topple Saddam Hussein and liberate the Iraqi people. (Because if there’s one thing the Iraqi people needed, it was definitely another war.) During the summer of 2003, when things began to come apart in the Middle East and at home, my mind began to rebel against the conservative cocoon I had been trapped inside for so many years.

I spent my junior year of college living in Europe attending real liberal arts colleges. These were universities where people could actually think, learn, and understand the world in an intellectual environment without the ever-present tinge of religious fundamentalism. I read a few books by Michael Moore and suddenly realized that I agreed with basically all of his arguments. Not only was I probably a Democrat, but I was a complete liberal. Shit. My parents were going to kill me.

It was also during this time that I nearly gave up belief in the entire idea of Christianity. The only thing that sustained me was that I had always been drawn to Jesus and His message. And then I was attracted to the Catholic faith. I had a wonderful professor in college who was Catholic and while living in Rome, I was surrounded by the beauty of the Catholic Church. I began learning about its history, its spirituality, and its advancement of social justice. The churches I had previously been exposed to had only a brief stint of history on the world stage, a McDonaldized spirituality, and no interest in social justice.

I became Catholic in 2006. Part of me regrets it. Part of me is ecstatic that I am no longer Protestant. And most of me has come to realize that it doesn’t really matter.

I follow the teachings of Jesus and I believe that if you truly follow them, you simply live for love. Loving God and loving people. All people. I believe that Jesus was the unique Son of God, but I don’t think it’s requisite to “get into heaven” to believe that. I think He showed people how to live, and if you follow that example, you’re in whether you believe the right doctrine about Him or not.

I truly believe that if a person were to really follow His teachings, their life would be incompatible with what the right-wing conservative (by American standards) Christianity and politics teach. Although Jesus never intended to set up a political system, I think socialism would be pretty attractive to Him with the whole ideology of taking care of everybody’s basic needs. (i.e. health care, education, community involvement, etc.) He wouldn’t be locking Himself away in a beautifully manicured $3.5 million home with undocumented Mexican gardeners and housekeepers whilst driving His Hummer down the street to shop at Wal-Mart. I’m certain that capitalism (particularly the American model of the past two years) would be abhorrent to Him and He would simply choose not to participate in such a corrupt system that exploits the weak for the benefit of the rich and powerful.

But I digress. So where am I today?

While I still consider a part of me to be Catholic, I don’t attend Mass every week. Sometimes I attend a Catholic church and sometimes I go to an Episcopalian one. Sometimes I just read a book about Jesus. And sometimes I just watch “Jesus Christ Superstar.” (The 1973 version, of course.) I also believe that anything that is spiritually beautiful is beneficial. So I practice Eastern meditation and yoga. I like to learn about astrology, dream interpretation, and Tarot. Unlocking the human subconscious can only strengthen a person’s spirituality, and how could that ever be a negative thing?

I didn’t attend a Catholic church this year during Holy Week. I was too disgusted by what had come out about the deviousness of the highest levels of the Catholic hierarchy. (I don’t think Jesus is too pleased about what’s happened either.) It’s when shit like this happens that people need to remember that the Church (and any other spiritual organization) is made up of the people and not those who lead it. We need a spiritual revolution. The Church isn’t a democracy, but perhaps it should be.