Thoughts Provoked

Just today I finished a book that provoked a good bit more thought then I intended having to deal with. It was set in a period where Rome was pushing out its boundaries and the main focus was Britannia. There was much in the way of political drama and of bloodshed, but it was some of the views on religion that got me thinking about that age-old question again.

Now I, by no means, am an atheist though I share quite a few of their sentiments about the state of religion. Christian feels wrong despite it is how I was raised. Agnostic is too often deemed the same as atheist. That tends to leave pagan. Pagan I’m comfortable enough to claim given as varied as its views are.

That question, you say? Easy. Who’s right? What’s right? Ok, sorry, that’s two questions. But are they all that dissimilar?I’ve had several crisis of faith growing up. Not at the hands of my family mind you. My home life was splendid compared to many. No, most of these were brought on by my own actions or some other power.

I guess I should give you a bit of insight on how I viewed things before I delve too deep. I wouldn’t say I followed any one religion. Polytheistic did seem the best choice though given the sheer number of persona’s the world at large showed, surely each mask was born by some entity. After all, how could the same that which bred hate and raged like the fires of war be the same thing that would gather their children lovingly and protect them from that war? I had no name for the entities, but at times I felt that I knew them intimately enough they needed none.

Then came a time where religion of any sort was absent to me. I’ll admit now that this time began when I left where I had practically grown up to be with my babygirl the first time. Though, now that I think back it was waning even before that but it was the severing of those ties that finalized it. I think now that the sudden feeling of being lost is what caused problems enough that I was willing to leave her and return to that home shortly after a few months.

I’m thankful to this day that there was hesitation in my actions. I had the money, still had barely more than filled my bags, I could have gotten on the bus while she was at work one day. Instead I waited for her to come home. After the tears, after the pleas, something told me that allowing her to come with me was the right thing to do. The thing was that once we got back I still could not feel those entities or the closeness I had with my former home. We both had changed, but I couldn’t see that yet. So I shut it out and turned completely away from religion.

I was an asshole then. I couldn’t find the balance between different aspects of myself and she bore the brunt of it. Even after she bore our first child I still felt a measure of distance from her. It was then that we decided my old home was truly lost and moved back to where we’d lived earlier. It wasn’t long before she bore a second, and things became more strained. Just as they improved a third came, and by then we were as different and out of sync as could be.

We both bear the burden of causing that rift, but I bear its brunt. For so long I refused to change, refused to adapt to the life I was creating for myself. Without a faith, I did feel quite isolated a lot despite most of my time being spent constantly occupied by little ones. It’s only recently that I think I’ve began to grow again. It took many a fight and many an emotional hardship. So much has happened that it feels much longer than the 5 years since I first moved in with her. As much for the problems as for how well we’re seeming to understand the other now. There will always be problems, but now I think there is a solid base to build upon so they do not worry me.

And its only after this growth and this reawakening of emotions I spent so long burning away with pain that I think thoughts of religion can return without a cynical eye-roll on my part. No, not religion. Faith. Damn it! That is too strong as well. An understanding then. Religion breeds hate. Faith numbs the mind and senses to other possibilities. At least understandings can be altered as new light is shed.

I’ve also learned to see through the personae of others, and to realize that I to don masks. Every person, whether they are honest enough or enlightened enough to admit it, is capable of great goods and heinous crimes dependent entirely on the circumstances. So it stands to reason that any being that created us could be capable of such varied emotions as well.

I cannot agree that Man is made in the image of God, and Woman is born from Man. If Man is the closest representation of God then the world would not hold the beauty it does. It would take a Mother’s Love…a Goddess’ Love…to nurture so much that we see in the world. Even the most doting father pales in comparison to the love and affection a mother can have for her children. As is said in the book I mentioned, All Gods are one God…All Goddesses are one Goddess.

So what if it was a single being, no gender, no bias, that made Man-kind? How could their children become so varied in their views to incite all manner of hate and war throughout history? Light through a prism. Since time unrecorded there have always been those touched by their creator to spread word of their Creator and their plan. Long before recorded history such words were passed in the only fashion they could be, by word of mouth. So each oracle, each disciple, each and every person, was left to interpret the word of their Creator as they saw fit. And so with each telling, with each retelling, the beam of light that was word was passed, shared and altered.

So came the many faces of religion. Even what I say now is colored by my perception and will be colored by yours as well. I wonder then, how do you see whatever being you follow? I’ll even tell you how I see mine. She’s akin to a den mother, a wild wolf who adored her children and would put her children above all others but could  and would decimate any who would bring them harm. But she would not step in if the children set in upon each other to establish dominance. It would pain her to see her children at each others’ throat with malice, but she must think of those that cannot fight…the brood to come…the den as a whole. So she watches, pained, as her children quibble to see who serves her properly, who serves her most fervently.

That is how I see our Creator. The epitome of a mother. What of you?

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~ by Psycosis on 2010 01 05.

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