The Dichotomy of who I am

The Dichotomy of who I am

I came back from my daily morning walks and was told that my cousin had called and I needed to call her back as soon as I could. I had been waiting for her call and was certainly glad that she finally did. The end of summer was creeping upon us and she had promised to bring her kids by for a visit.  I returned her call as soon as I caught up with my breath. I was thinking that I would be spending time with her chatting about how life’s been like since we saw each other last. She was one of those people in my life who I had always considered as a kindred spirit, for although we weren’t actually related by blood, I always thought of her as my “soul sister”.  For the similarities in our lives were uncanny, we were like two people trekking parallel life paths.

​The last time I saw her, there was an apparent bliss in her bearing. From what I had gathered, she and her family had attended a couple of religious retreats sponsored by the local church. The details were a bit fuzzy but what was distinctive about all of her experience was her strengthened religious bond. She was ecstatic with her newfound relationship with her Creator and was excited to share her eye opening experience with all those she cared most about. If there were anyone who deserved the purest kind of happiness that a spiritual experience brings into one’s existence, she definitely was the best candidate!  Being in her presence brought some degree of calmness in me, her religious fervor was contagious.

​As soon as she said hello, I had asked her about their plans to visit. She paused and said that the reason she called was that the church was sponsoring another weekend retreat and asked if I was interested in attending this time. I guess my mind was still exhausted from the hour-long walk because I asked about the details, when, where, what, etc. I told her I was going to check my schedule and would let her know. I couldn’t find the courage to say NO.

​I spent the next two days fretting about the call, I didn’t want to lie to her nor did I want to disappoint her. In truth although, my precious weekends were always overbooked, I had always found ways of rearranging activities to allow myself to participate in more desirable ones. Two days delaying the decision to tell her hasn’t convinced me that attending a church retreat would indeed be a desirable activity.

​I had come to a point in my life where I was being very selective with what I had wanted to spend my time in. I had also come to a point in my spirituality where I had become very selective of what I believed in. I realized that what I defined as desirable activities have defined who I have become.

Basically, desirable activities were defined as anything that didn’t impose any requirements on my part, anything that I was willing and able to do. Desirable activities inevitably time consuming events, allowed me to pursue those that bring passion to my otherwise mundane existence. I was in the phase of my life when I finally felt I deserved to live the life I was destined to live, sans cultural, religious and parental governing rules.

​I remember being eight years old singing hymns while attending the high noon mass at one the prestigious Catholic Churches.  Besides feeling dwarfed by the enormity of the church architecture, I have very distinct memories of the heat, my Sunday dress, the street vendors outside of the church and mostly the myriad of people attending the celebration of the mass.

There was one moment when all of time seemed to stop. Although I could still hear the parishioners singing, the electric fans whirling, the bells ringing in a far distance, amidst the crowded place of worship, something happened that would eventually set the tone of my search for spirituality.

All of a sudden, there was silence. I had a vision of myself standing alone in the middle of the empty pews. I was surrounded only by the thick walls and the bigger than life religious icons. A thin mist remained suspended in mid air providing a comfortable level of coolness. I remember questioning myself, why it was that I went to church that day?

I had no answer. As quick as the vision came, it went. Suddenly, the singing of the hymns became louder, I could once again feel the heat, and I once again became aware of those faithful people who surrounded me.  It was as if, for the first time in my life I had attended church and knew that I didn’t belong there. It was as if that day, I validated a belief that had been gnawing at my instinct, I knew that there had to be some higher sense of purpose. I knew that thus far, attending Sunday service hadn’t revealed that purpose to me.

 ​For years, I continued attending Sunday mass. I figured that was what was expected of any good religious girl. I attempted to find the sense of purpose that I seemed to have lost. Instead, every Sunday to pass the time, I came up with something to be amused about. Sometimes, I would wonder about the life stories of the people in front of me; on third Sundays, I would marvel at the stained glass windows and if I felt really creative, started counting the pieces. One really long church service, I counted the bald men in the first ten rows! After I moved to this country, Easter proved to be very amusing indeed, I would count all those who had come to the service wearing their wide-brimmed spring hats.

​As everything else in life, one can only do something without meaning for so long. One Sunday, I didn’t feel like going to church anymore and so I didn’t. For someone who had grown up in a culture that is so attached to its religion, the enormous feeling of guilt was hard to eradicate, eventually though, I felt very liberated. The day I stopped obligating myself to go to church was when I found the real meaning of spirituality. That very day, I finally found my GOD.  

​How do I then find the courage to tell my cousin that I no longer believed in judgement day? How do I explain that I no longer am terrified by concept of sin nor the deliverance of my soul from it? Without sounding sacrilegious, how do I tell her that I never really bought into the idea that I was born into this world with nothing but a physical body loaded with “original sin”?  For even the most corrupt justice system in this world presumes innocence until proven otherwise.

I never found solace in being taught that on my very birthday, the God who had created me had already branded me GUILTY before I could even begin to breathe. For how would one justify such existence of never being able to clean a slate that has already been permanently tainted in its inception? How do I tell her that, in my opinion, the concept of original sin was a scare tactic, employed by the founding fathers of the church to keep a short leash on their followers? How do I then, when the words “flames of hell” kept appearing in my psyche like the hot neon lights on Broadway?

​ How do I tell her that I found peace in believing that the Universe has her own way of balancing opposing forces to attain a natural state of harmony? The concept of the yin and yang made perfect sense to me. For isn’t t in the presence of evil can one know the purity of goodness? In the darkest of times can one see the slightest glimmer of hope? Amidst so much hatred can the least expression of love ultimately attempt to conquer all?   And isn’t it true that emptiness becomes only an issue when one had been fortunate to have already experienced a certain degree of fullness in one’s lifetime?

The day I stopped going to church, was the day I finally learned to pray and involve GOD in every minute of my everyday. In meditation, I have found a way to silence my mind. I have learned to be still during those precious in-between moments, as I transition on to the next “learning experience” that is presented my way.

In dealing with conflict, I have learned to be grateful for the innumerable opportunities to learn generosity, patience and compassion. The type of spirituality that I have found can be likened to a flowing liquid that is given form only by the vessel that contains it. In every moment of my life, I have found wisdom from people and things in the most unlikely places. And in each and every one of them, I felt the presence of the most venerable Supreme Being!

How do I tell her that the cathartic events in my life happened not as unusual momentous occasions but as mere coincidences in my 24-hour trivial days?

It happened one day, when I was obsessing about some of the choices I made, I felt was made in haste:  My first born son had a penchant for Harry Potter, so he begged me to see the movie on it’s first day of showing. I was a bit apprehensive since such popular movies seem to draw a large crowd on opening weekends. However, like always the begging prevailed and so we went. The darkness of the movie theatre seemed very conducive to napping, so I dozed off while Harry Potter was going about his adventures. I woke up in time to hear the Professor telling Harry, “It is not our abilities that show who we are, it is our choices.” Talk about serendipity! After that moment, I stopped judging myself.

I realized that the actual choices that I take are the cobblestones that shape the path that I am leading. So there are no right or wrong choices. I make the choices that I perceive to be the best given the circumstances I am in.  Choices indeed, define who I am. Understanding why I made them shed light on why this world came to be for me!

It happened one day when I had to confront the thought of forgiving the person who had generated so much anger and hatred in my heart. I sat on my bed sobbing and as I turned up the volume on the television to disguise my anguish, I heard this loud and clear vocal chorus: “Make me an instrument of your peace, where there is hatred let me bring you love.” The prayer of St. Francis of Assisi, the penultimate prose in dichotomy! Indeed!

It happened one day, when I had to bid my mother farewell for the last time, finding no strength to shed any more tears, I found my youngest son smiling at me and singing one of his songs, “Don’t give up, just go on!” On that very moment, it troubled me that the only person who was capable of loving me unconditionally was gone forever; it took one glance at my child to know that another one has come to take her place.

It happens everyday at the break of dawn when the initial rays of the sunrise seeps through the remnants of darkness from the previous night. It happens when, at a certain moment, a transformation occurs. It happens when the ultimate obscurity is suddenly replaced with the utmost clarity! It happens when mere coincidences prove to be divine interventions!

How do I tell my cousin that the sense of bliss that she is now experiencing I had a great dose of that Sunday not so long ago when I finally decided to stop marveling at the stained glass windows. The same bliss has continuously flowed into my existence since!

I reached for the phone and finally found the strength to make my call. “Hello, I’m sorry but I think I’ll pass.” There was silence on the other end of the line. All I heard was that, “it’s okay, I understand.”

Perhaps, this experience is indeed another of one of those lessons in the dichotomies of life. Somehow, sometimes against all odds, the fear of facing an anticipated judgement is greeted instead by unexpected gesture of compassion. Perhaps finding the courage to say  “NO”, allows one the levity to say,  “Hello World, YES indeed, this is who I am!”