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a comment in someone else's journal...
Aug. 17th, 2018 11:39 amprompted a think about faith and the outward trappings thereof. I was raised in a rigid fundamental Christian
church. My parents had grown up *around* the church, but didn't attend because they each were essentially raised by wolves. As adults they joined the church as a means of belonging, socially, and from fear of the afterlife.
I began to question their religion as a young teen, though my parents remained largely unaware, since my research was confined to extensive reading and talking with people *other* than my parents. I wanted to avoid hurting them by "rejecting" their faith--and also, I admit, wanting to avoid a shitstorm should they find out I was "questioning."
I researched Judaism, seriously considered converting for a few months. Studied Roman Catholicism, and went through some serious contemplation of becoming a cloistered nun. Sometimes regret not doing it. As an adult, there was a period of (stealth) wider Protestant Christian belief and practice *within* my parents' church. And thus to a lengthy study of Native American spirituality, discovering the varying beliefs and practices of many Nations, before acknowledging that as much as I was drawn to some of many, I could not embrace *one* belief system and, retaining much gained perspective, let go of cherry-picked appropriation. And moved on into Celtic paganism, Druidism, a brief but concentrated exploration of Hinduism, Shinto, and Buddhism.
Buddhism makes sense to me. I simply don't have the determination to commit to practice. I believe and practice many tenets of Buddhist faith, but acknowledge I am not, and cannot be, right now in my life, a Buddhist. I do have figures of the Buddha in my home and garden, as focal points for contemplation, and where my gaze falls, to rest, and find footing in my struggle to overcome chaos and rancor and despair. If that's appropriation, then I'm guilty. But I would never consider those figures as "decoration," because they have purpose: they recall me to mindfulness, and are an anchor in my inner search for strength and kindness, and for peace.
church. My parents had grown up *around* the church, but didn't attend because they each were essentially raised by wolves. As adults they joined the church as a means of belonging, socially, and from fear of the afterlife. I began to question their religion as a young teen, though my parents remained largely unaware, since my research was confined to extensive reading and talking with people *other* than my parents. I wanted to avoid hurting them by "rejecting" their faith--and also, I admit, wanting to avoid a shitstorm should they find out I was "questioning."
I researched Judaism, seriously considered converting for a few months. Studied Roman Catholicism, and went through some serious contemplation of becoming a cloistered nun. Sometimes regret not doing it. As an adult, there was a period of (stealth) wider Protestant Christian belief and practice *within* my parents' church. And thus to a lengthy study of Native American spirituality, discovering the varying beliefs and practices of many Nations, before acknowledging that as much as I was drawn to some of many, I could not embrace *one* belief system and, retaining much gained perspective, let go of cherry-picked appropriation. And moved on into Celtic paganism, Druidism, a brief but concentrated exploration of Hinduism, Shinto, and Buddhism.
Buddhism makes sense to me. I simply don't have the determination to commit to practice. I believe and practice many tenets of Buddhist faith, but acknowledge I am not, and cannot be, right now in my life, a Buddhist. I do have figures of the Buddha in my home and garden, as focal points for contemplation, and where my gaze falls, to rest, and find footing in my struggle to overcome chaos and rancor and despair. If that's appropriation, then I'm guilty. But I would never consider those figures as "decoration," because they have purpose: they recall me to mindfulness, and are an anchor in my inner search for strength and kindness, and for peace.
