Followers

Sunday, January 24, 2010

A place to start...

Let's clear "this" up.....

I grew up in a fundamentalist religious environment in the South.  Lucky, I guess.  For the greater part of my life, I took my ability to think for granted.  Was it the adherence to the rigid principles of fundamentalist Christianity in which I was taught to fear god that abused my natural childlike curiosity to think openly and without shame?  I feared thinking the wrong thing(s) so much that I policed my thoughts laboriously and incessantly used prayer to wipe out any impurities in thought or otherwise.  Original sin? My ass.

As a child and adolescent, I wasn't taught the benefits of thinking clearly, let alone how to think critically.  I was, however, taught the virtues and "blessings" of blind faith and belief.  I was taught that it was a sin to think impure thoughts.  "You shouldn't think like that" was a repetitive thought in my head as I tried to maintain a pure conscience.  I spent many hours on end worrying and fearful that I'd somehow screwed-up and not had "enough of" or the "right" belief in god and I'd spend eternity in hell.  It wasn't until college and I was in my early twenties that I began to shake loose from this twisted web of illogic and fallacy.

As a rule, logic was not in my lexicon of belief as I grew up.  As could be expected, my belief engine was so strong that I would accept without question, most, if not all of the claims made by the preachers and teachers in my life.  I didn't know there was such a thing as skepticism, nor did I realize how valuable reason and logic could be.  The absence of skepticism was in no doubt (pun intended) a result of a guarded and warped belief system.  Skepticism or having doubt in god or in things of god, pastor, church, bible, etc. was, in my mind, a sin.

Okay, that was fun!  At a later time, I'll come back to some of the topics raised above.  Let's skip to today, now that I'm in my mid-40s.  I am different now.  I think, I question, I doubt, I feel, I laugh, I love, I live.  I continue to have a natural curiosity about the world that instills excitement and wonder.  I have a healthy and skeptical perspective.  As a father to a, now, 22 month old daughter, I owe it not only to myself but to her to embrace curiosity and the ability to question and reason.  To the best of my ability, I will teach her the value of inquiry, doubt, and logical reasoning.

For the record, I am not religious nor Christian nor new-age nor, would I say, spiritual.  I am a human with a genuine desire to connect deeply with others in this life.   Hence, the reasons for me to blog:  to connect as well as to share with others, to challenge and liberate myself emotionally and intellectually, and to solidify my humanness.

Most of the time my thoughts whirr about in my noggin' and they don't have a chance to settle and crystalize.  My hope is to use this blog to dive into the depths of my understanding of the world, current events, and life and formulate into words those ideas, hopes, rants, and raves that make living a once in a lifetime event.  Read on...

6 comments:

  1. Inaugural post - Fabulous! I am so proud of you babe! Love you! ~A

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  2. Great job Paul e... I really enjoy our conversations and hope that this blog can help others think about topics and subjects constructively and critically. Kudos!!!

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  3. So, are you the same Paulie (Paul e) that stars on the MTV show Jersey Shore? Just kidding! You know I love thought provoking conversations and ideas so I can't wait to follow your blog! There aren't many people I have these sort of conversations with so I am truly grateful you and Amy are in my life!
    Liz

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  4. Thanks for the invite, cuz. I've always enjoyed our discussions about 'everything' over the years. I don't know if it was the difference in the denominations we grew up in or the difference in our parents, but I never had the concerns/fears that you have had. Mom, Neal and I went to church about every time the doors were open (dad was working or sleeping to go to work much of the time).

    My biggest fear of doing right/wrong and the repercussions was getting a whipping! :) You know my parents (mostly dad) didn't spare the rod.

    One thing I can say about mom and dad was that they did encourage us to think critically. Dad's favorite saying was 'use your head for something besides a hat rack' and we talked about the consequences of actions we may take. Not in terms of heaven or hell, but in terms of how it would affect us and those around us.

    In church, JW Stiles talked about eternal life, but he didn't say thinking this way or that would send you to hell. We concentrated more on the 10 commandments that I pretty much believe are good rules to live by even if you aren't interested in religion. Yes, we did have altar call and one had to be saved to go to heaven. We heard the 'on the fence will be spewed out'--you're saved or you're not, but it never stressed me out.

    JW was also very good about being thoughtful and willing to talk about other religions, etc. In fact, I asked him when I was about 13 or 14 "how do we know we're in the 'right' religion"? We must have talked for an hour, and he never once tried to convince me our way was the right way. He actually decided to have a class for any of us who were interested to study the beliefs of all of the major religions--I say major religions because I know we didn't consider every religion out there, but we did study everything from Judaism to Islam to Hindu, etc. He never once disparaged any of the religions. We did consider where their beliefs differed from ours. Again, he didn't try to convince us we were right or wrong. He presented the facts, I guess you can say. I had the utmost respect for him because I don't know many ministers who would do that without putting an emphasis on how 'right' his chosen religion is.

    Although I hated it at the time, moving to a larger city and much larger high school was probably also a great thing for me. For the first time, I met people who were practicing Jews and Catholics and got to know them. As a freshman at Clemson, my first roommate was born to a Jewish father and Catholic mother- neither of whom practiced their faith. They had decided when they married to let any children make up their own mind about what to practice. They never took them to Temple or to Mass. I can remember laying in our bunk beds one night talking until the wee hours of the morning about religion. She didn't know the story of the birth of Christ, for example. I was able to explain the major differences between Catholic and Jewish beliefs. It was fascinating to her that I knew and fascinating to me that she didn't.

    Since then, I've made friends with people who are Buddhist, Hindu, Catholic, Jewish, Moslem, Bahai and other faiths. I have spent hours talking to many of them about their faiths and customs. I believe there is a God. I don't go to church regularly (and haven't for years), nor do I read the Bible regularly.

    Mom's medical issues a couple of years ago brought me the closest to a religious mentality than I have had in years. It wasn't because I was praying for her healing (I was!), but because I felt a peace because I believe she would be in a better place if she didn't survive. Many of the doctors and nurses remarked about how calm she was and how well she handled things. They loved her and her positive attitude and the peace she had about her.
    Okay, I've 'thought' enough for tonight. Love ya! Debra

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  5. Thanks for the support and encouragement! I enjoy the diversity of backgrounds and perspectives from each of you as it brings clarity to my own path.

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  6. It has been a long time Dear Friend since I have seen you. So good to hear you are happily married and a father. Thanks for the inspiring words. Oddly you were on my mind as I was sending out an invite for a possible class reunion...I just cannot bear the thoughts of waiting for our 30th!I miss everyone too much!!! As i decided to tune in to facebook tonight someone linked me to your blog and I have throughly enjoyed each poetic word you write and relate. You always did have such a way with words.

    I hope this blog is intended to totally release at least a portion of our inner self because I am so full of words, contempt, and disbelief myself. Maybe myth, maybe not, I still cling to the fact that God is my moving force. He is my breath when I awake and my only thread of hope for whom I can count on, to care for me, respond to my prayers and one in whom I can cling to when I need help. Some have said He doesn't exist, some say He brings about our suffering, and boy have I done a lot of that, but I cling to the hope that my deeds on this earth, the overpowering need to inspire others and give of myself unselfishly will be noticed not only by others but mostly by Him.

    I went through a period of "faith" doubt when my brother died but each day I realize a part of his death saved me because at the time I was drowning in a self-destructing marriage to a drug addict, who was abusive. I was so ready to end my own life to escape the endless nightmare I struggled through for 11 years and I was constantly asking God "why?" I was a good person, a great mother and daughter and a wonderful caring, giving wife. I was faithful in my community and church but I was disappearing behind a wall of lies I had built up because of the shame of failure.

    When I was able to escape that relationship, I also escaped the withdrawn world I had enveloped myself in. Now there is not a day that goes by that I do not turn to God first. I am so willing to profess my faith verbally and publicly. There may be so many other beliefs in this big world and I will continually cross paths with people who condemn my virtues, but I have to be grounded in the one and only thing that brings me continues hope and peace.

    The ability to express ourselves is something that has been so perplexing to me. As I have searched endlessly for words to describe the feelings within me, I dwell on who I was and who I have become. There was a time when I cared tremendously what others thought about me and then a time when I could care less and now I have finally become grounded in the fact that I am just happy with who I am and that is really all that matters.

    I was always brought up in a "Southern Baptist" home, always grounded in the word, and always believing that God had to have more than His hand in my creation, but also in my continued existence. Always growing up feeling mediocre to my siblings, I strived to be the center of attention at all costs. I had to make straight "A's", had to be in every club and organization and always wanted to be the leader...and even as I left school and started finding my roots in the big city of Charlotte...I started realizing I was a Little Girl lost in a Big Girl's world. I partied, I behaved irratically, I lived the "unspeakable lifestyle" and I grew up. Would I change who I was or who I have become? NOT A CHANCE!!!

    I am who I am and I am still striving to become even more. I still face the same challenges and struggles but I want to leave the profound legacy to my children. I know I may never account to know all of the answers, but I want to leave the meaningful mark...one that will be easily interpreted by those who follow as a decalration of the miracle of God in my life.

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