I have been undecided my entire adult life. Republican or democrat, progressive or traditional, cat person or dog person, gay or straight, happy or sad, viscious or passive, alone or alienated...
But none has tortured me more than the dichotomy of religious or atheist.
I have suffered the worst of both. And seen the benefits, and I'm getting old enough that I should choose, but like my students learning myers Briggs type for the first time, its hard to separate having a preference for one choice over another and having the ability to flex outside those preferences.
For instance, this week, I prayed. I asked for my own suffering in return for another's comfort. I lost two very important things to me, but I saw them as tiny miracles if they comforted someone else. After all, things are replaceable. Even if they are custom works of stained glass.
I just want to know if there is some sense to this relationship between asking and receiving. Maybe I have learned of a higher power that listens. Even if it communicates through pain.
I can't say what that means, besides only more questions.
My uncle Paul should have been on my mind instead. I am comforted by hospice and their gift of respite for the weary, but he is beyond weary. I am as sad for him as I could be. I only "pray" he's the last member of my family who dies from colon cancer. And that he is paid all the dignity he is due. I learned from you, Paul. I hope that someone is there when you take your last walk to show you the way home.
Perhaps people only find religion when the hole inside them is so big, no worldly thing can fill it.
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