Faith

I am writing this post as a personal response to an article in the LA Times, written by the paper's former religion columnist. It's a very moving piece of writing about a spiritual journey that took him in a direction he'd never expected: the loss of faith.

I have faith. In some ways it is deeply at odds with the rest of me, my doubt and skepticism, more than anything. I used to call it spirituality, what I possess, but let's be honest. It's faith. What I do not have, nor do I want, is religion. I consider myself, if pressed, a Judeo-Christian-Paganist. Haha. My little joke. I'm culturally closer to my Ashkenazim roots than anything else, but I'm no practicing Jew. I try to observe the High Holidays, not because I think it's my duty, but because I like to feel closer to my cultural roots. I don't beat myself up if I miss one. I also really enjoy Christmas. Not because it's the birth of Jesus, but because it's a beautiful and ancient holiday borrowed from several pagan traditions that predate any idea of "religion" common to the Western world. Even current polytheist religions don't quite compare.

My faith isn't tested by my belief in science, far from it, in fact. No, I look at the awesomeness of the universe, from the Big Bang to evolution to plate tectonics as facets of an incredible creation. Not Creation, as in the Bible, but I believe that something started it all off and put the ball in motion. Like I said, it's not spirituality, but faith. I choose to believe this.

Sometimes, I forget that I believe in the existence of something bigger than all of this. 'God' is a funny word. It doesn't seem quite right to me, mainly because I can't help envisioning a bearded white guy in the sky. I do not believe in that god. I don't want to say 'force' because this isn't Star Wars, but I prefer to think of 'God' as a something, intangible and invisible, but able to take the forms that people need in order to feel connected. Today, God is this rock. Tomorrow, perhaps God is you.

When I plead with 'God', I look up. This is not because I believe it is up above, but because, I think, by craning our necks backward, we are making ourselves vulnerable and in pleading to 'God', we are undoubtedly feeling vulnerable. I thought about this the other day as I wept in the shower. I felt, at that moment, as though my whole world had fallen in on me, Gareth had told me he needed a break. My plea was not to make him change his mind, but to give me strength to bear it, to be okay, because I believe that things happen for a reason, even though we rarely can see the why of it at the time it's happening.

No, I don't believe that 'God' actively intercedes in our lives, not really. I think it's more that 'God' has an unlimited energy or strength that when we are in need, and open to it, we can share. Does that sound strange? I am okay, and whatever the outcome is, I have to trust that it will work out. That's faith, not spirituality. But it's not religion. I do not need people to interpret for 'God'. People just screw it up. People get in the way. People have ulterior motives.

Among my friends I have counted Jews, Christians of many sects and stripes, Wiccans and Pagans, Hindus, Baha'i, Muslims, Buddhists, Atheists and agnostics. These people have been of various colours, creeds and sexual orientations. I tell none of them that by believing what they believe they are wrong, because they're not. I find no issue if they associate themselves with a particular religion or are lapsed, for our actions speak clearly about us as human beings, and there have been some awful people who did what they did under the mantle of religion.

When I was a teenager, I thought I would make it official. I had plans to study my Torah and have my bat mitzvah once I'd turned 18. I'd chosen not to when I was a child because I did not feel, coming from a multi-faith home, that I was ready to make such an important decision. Smart kid. Through my teens, I successively lost five relatives over the course of three years, not all close, but starting with my beloved Nana, and ending with my father. That final loss, when I was 18, threw my religious plans in a tailspin. I lost my faith, or so I believed. I was angry.

I hadn't lost it, it turned out, I simply put it somewhere safe and then forgot where I'd hidden it. It was two years later, maybe three, when I stumbled upon it once more. I don't remember what happened or where I was that triggered it, but I think that as a guess, it was probably my cottage. When I recovered my faith, I had found that my interest in associating it with a religion had disappeared. I was what I was and no brand name was going to change it.

I do not love 'God', but I have respect and I believe that 'God' is there when we need it.

Larry Bagnell = Love

There's just something about Larry Bagnell, Member of Parliament for the Yukon Territory. Even people who normally profess their hatred for the Liberals love Larry. Larry's a cool dude. He has some incredible magic ability to be everywhere all at once, at tons of community events and still be in Ottawa when the House is sitting. He's nice, personable, fun, comes across honest and good-natured and... well, everyone loves Larry.

Last night I went to his annual summer barbecue, which while a grill was grilling skewers, it was more of an Asian thing than burger thing, in that the Filipino community was out cooking and doing sort of generic Asian yummies. It was nice. Oh, and it was free. I was really impressed at the cross-section of people that came out for it, and all the different sorts shaking Larry's hand. Good times.

In other news, this has been a bad week, which I'm not going to talk about right now. Instead, I present you with a two-nosed dog !!

No pressure

It's kind of nice to be posting to my weblog without pressure. I really did enjoy the Blogathon and I hope to do it again next year. I almost made 400 bucks this year for the Humane Society of Canada, which is great, but I hope next year to do better. Maybe a different charity, too. I really would have liked to do it for the local shelter, but they have no online donation form, so that made it impossible according to the rules of Blogathon. Oh well.

We were interviewing today for the Internship position with the Gallery. We had thought (hoped?) that we'd have had a clear leader in the candidates, but following the interviews, we were kind of hard-pressed to decide. This is why we ask for references, I guess. Anyway, all the shortlisted candidates really have something going for them.

Anyway, I don't actually have a lot to say, but I thought I'd better post an entry or I might lose interest again, and I really don't want that to happen. I've been writing in the blog since October 2001. It seems so long ago; certainly it is a lifetime ago, based on where I was then, and what I was doing at the time.

So, what was I doing? I was attending Seneca's digital media school doing computer animation. I had hopes of a career in video games or film. I'm still in touch with one of the students, Brian, and he managed to score the job, working at Bioware. I was not, however, living at home and rent-free so I couldn't devote all my time to creating mods with him. I had to work and an apartment to pay for.

Today, after work, I went shopping and found wild pink salmon on the store shelves. Once in a while, living in Whitehorse has its perks. I barbecued the little pink steaks, made a white/wild rice base and salad and finished it all up with a fresh fruit salad that included the strawberries I'm growing on my porch. Yummy. And, sure, rent is still a struggle, but a lot less of one, and I own a new car and pay my bills myself, mostly without the help of my mother. Ya, I guess I've come a ways since 2001.

B:45 The End !

This is my last post for Blogathon 2007. I'm pretty impressed with myself, I must admit.

My total? 15 pledges for $376.04 !! You have until Tuesday to pledge for me and the Humane Society of Canada if you haven't already, but wanted to. You can contact me or click this link.

As it stands now, I'd like to thank:

Claire
Liz
Al & Carrie
Lucy
Kelly
Pat
Hosh
Scott
Aislinn
Shecky
Didier
Tammy
Dodo
Megan

THANK YOU ALL !!!

And would I do it again? Hell yes. See you next year, Blogathon !! And Goodnight !

B:44 Second-to-last post !

HOLY CRAP. The end is in sight !!!! You know how I'm going to make this last half hour go by really quickly? I'm going to take a long, incredibly hot shower. It's going to be grand !

Catch you on the cleaner side of things !

B:43 All-Nighter

When I was in university residence, the cafeteria staff always knew when I'd been up all night. Those were the only mornings I made it for breakfast. I loved those breakfasts. Back then, I usually was up all night writing essays. Only occasionally did I stay up all night doing the party thing. I didn't drink at all in my first year. In my second, I started drinking, but still, I usually stayed up all night only to write papers. Social activity and clubbing was best followed-up by a good lie-in the following morning.

When I was basically addicted to playing Realms of Despair (a pretty fabulous text-based roleplaying game), I willingly pulled all-nighters to roleplay all night (go Drow Elves, yeah !). Hell, I'd mastered the Drow dictionary, even. That's some serious involvement. And there were also the all night parties now and then. Then, around the age of 25, I suddenly found it really hard to do it. I suddenly hit a wall around 4am and had to go to sleep. I've discovered that this is not unusual and lots of people suddenly can't pull it off come their mid to late twenties.

This all-nighter, for the Blogathon, is the first all-nighter I've willingly pulled in probably about four years. It's been fun, too, in a strange sort of way. There's no way I could do this regularly, though. But dancing around in my living room has decided me on getting physically active again, so there you go. Go Blogathon !

B:42 Life, the Universe and Everything

I've reached Post 42, which means I'm in the home stretch. There are only another 90 minutes or so to go.

So, as is fitting for the number, I guess I should talk about my love of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, a very fine book, and the first in a five(?) book trilogy. ;)

It belonged to Tracy, but she and I shared books all the time. I guess I was about 14 or 15. One of us, probably her, dropped it in her pool. I remember reading it and all the pages were crinkled because I think she may have kept flipping the pages to dry them, and maybe even used a blow-dryer at one point.

The things we remember.

Tracy is still my best friend in the whole world. I love her. She's expecting her first child in September, and though I had initially planned to be there for the birth, I realise that probably won't happen. I miss her.

B:41 Music

There was a time when I knew all about who was new on the music scene, especially if they were British. I'm listening to the BlogExplosion Radio and they just played Kate Nash's Foundations. Who is she? When did she turn up on the scene? I rather liked that one song. It's a bit tongue-in-cheek, but then again, it's 4am and maybe I have no ability to discriminate. That's definitely possible. But come on, this is fun stuff:

Your face is pasty ’cause you’ve gone and got so wasted, what a suprise.
Don’t want to look at your face ’cause it’s makin’ me sick.
You’ve gone and got sick on my trainers,
I only got these yesterday.
Oh, my gosh, I cannot be bothered with this.

B:40 Gareth

I just got off the phone with Gareth. That may be one of the only good things about living eight time zones apart. When it's the middle of the night here and I need to talk to him (which doesn't actually happen that often), I usually can, because it's going on noon there. Anyway, we just managed to mostly talk about nothing for about forty minutes, which is why this post is a bit late. I wasn't going to get off the phone with my love, who I see every four to five months for only about two weeks at a time, just to blog, you know? I do have some priorities.

Anyway, I miss him a lot and hope I can see him sometime soon... but it just seems less and less likely that it will happen this summer. Oh money. I have promised him that when I leave Whitehorse, I will move closer to him, not farther away !

B:39 Blogathon on the radio...

Internet radio. Thank God. They are tailoring their music for the crazy people who are in the last three hours of the blogathon.

Here's a crazy person:

B:38 Something a bit more serious

I promised I'd talk about some of the things that have effected my life over the last few months. Hell, I never even finished writing about my holidays with Gareth or anything. I've been a shitty blogger in the last couple of years.

But in the more recent past, the last entry I posted was about nasty Mr. Jerry Falwell who died. More importantly to my life, a very close friend of the family died in May. Some of you may remember in 2003 when I went to New York because Robert passed away. His father, Alfred, was one of my mother's closest friends and she was a foundational person in Robert's life.

Alfred died in May. My mother went to New York in the last two weeks of his life. Initially, it was to help get his place cleaned up for his return in case he needed to get in home care, etc., but by the end, it was clear that he would not be coming home. He died the night after she left.

I dropped everything and got a travel agent to find me a "reasonable" flight from Whitehorse to New York. It was very expensive, but less than had I booked it myself. Half the price, in fact.

Going back to New York, staying in Alfred's apartment... without Alfred... it was very discomforting. I spent nearly no time in the living room because that is where he and I would have been hanging out laughing and talking if it were a normal visit. I stayed holed up in the guest room, formerly Robert's bedroom. There was no Alfred, no Robert, no cat... it was so strange.

And it was not only a goodbye to a beloved friend, but to a neighbourhood. A home away from home. I might write more about this... I don't know. I still hurt thinking about it.

In the last couple of weeks, Don, Alfred's close friend, and ours, too, closed up the apartment and turned in the keys.

It hurts my heart. I don't think I can write any more about this right now.

B:37

Oooh, another Blogathon game. This one is the "I Hate That Song" game. There aren't a lot of songs I actively hate. There are some genres that get up my nose, but hate is a strong word.

However, after thinking about this for a few minutes, I can name two songs that get up my nose sufficiently that, under the circumstances, I can probably say I dislike them intensely.

Patio Lanterns, by Kim Mitchell, is perhaps one of my most disliked songs. One summer, when I worked for the Ontario Government, it literally haunted me. Everywhere I was, it was played, or it seemed that way. Just the mention of 'patio lanterns' as objects make me shudder.

The other song is a little harder to nail down, but I really dislike The Macarena. I mean, really. I tend to eschew songs with dances attached to them at the best of times (anyone else remember the Achy-Breaky dance?), unless it's the chicken dance, because that's just silly.

When I get married, I have two rules for the DJ: 1) under no circumstance is he to play White Wedding because it is NOT A HAPPY MARRIAGE SONG and, 2) his life is forfeit if he plays The Macarena. Uhg.

B:36 Home.

Now my boys, Choco and Twee, are sitting at the screen door, watching intently as the rain pelts down outside. It's been a while since it's been completely dark at night. And it's sure dark out now. If it weren't completely overcast, the sky would probably still be tinted dark blue with a kind of greenish-yellow tinge along the horizon beneath which the sun was moving. It's a nice trade-off on the whole, four hours of light in the winter thing; the near complete daylight thing at the height of summer.

You know, I'd like the Yukon more if I were only here in the summer months. I'd have a summer cabin up here, although I'm not sure I could get used to swimming in the frigid water. Of course, that is all hypothetical, since we already have a summer cottage in Quebec.

Watching my cats whacking bugs on the screen makes me think they would really love it there, too. I miss it. On a night like tonight, with the rain pelting and bouncing on the earth and wooden structures outside, it reminds me of many a cool, wet night at the cottage.

More than any place I've been or lived, that is the one I most closely identify as "home".

B:35

I am now officially tired. The movies are done, it's raining again, and I'm sending Andrew home. He's going to try to take Twee. He really likes Twee. Twee is a great cat, though, so I fully understand.

Also, Choco just sat mewing outside the bathroom door while Andrew was inside. Heh.

B:34 The Pastorale

I forgot how poignant the scene with Sol in the euthanasia chamber is. God, it's so good. Sol is such a sweet character, too. And you know, the idea of the euthanasia chamber is really beautiful. It's possibly the most humane thing in the entire film.

B:33 Soylent controls the food for half the world

Sorry, did you say Haliburton? Oh, right, they don't control food. Just most of everything else.

I see the parallels. Well, the movie is pretty prescient, I guess. Except maybe the whole women as furniture thing, but ... then again, the human slave trade is booming, so maybe not.

B:32 People.... PEOPLE !

Whoops, is that the punchline? Sorry. SPOILERS ! Ya, time to watch Soylent Green, classic sci-fi. I'm looking forward to it. I shall discuss it as I go, I suppose. Andrew's never seen it and I haven't seen it in about 15 years. Awesome.

B:31 Seven hours

Seven hours to go. Wow, I've been at this for a while. Doing this while watching movies is kind of hard. Andrew is wrestling with my cats. He'll have bled all over my couch by the time he goes home.

B:30 Happy Movies

Hosh and I need to watch more happy-fun movies.

My cats love Andrew. And now he's bleeding.

B:29 Boogie woogie

You know, for a movie about the porn, this is really not a movie about porn. It's a movie about people and social issues and pornography happens to be its backdrop. And there are some great performances in it. Someone tell me why I haven't seen this in its entirety in its ten years of existence?

However, I don't actually recommend it for people who are easily offended.