As I mentioned in my previous post on Religion and the Shared-Custody Child, I used to be fairly sanguine about my kid not being fostered within the bosom of religion. The idea did give me some minor trouble from time to time, after all, I was raised in the Bible Belt, and thus swam in the same spiritual pool as everyone else I knew. Beyond that, even, I graduated with a M.Div. from Divinity School, thus sinking three years and a good deal of money into the whole religion thing.
My own love-hate relationship with the faith I grew up within, added to the downright distaste my ex-husband has for his upbringing -- raised conservative Catholic, he is now firmly Atheist -- made us agree to not raise our son in any religion at all. This turned out to be easier than I expected; Math Boy turned out to have problems with eating anything other than smoothie, and problems with talking (he didn’t do either until he was almost six) so my energies were turned toward getting my kid to talk and eat. My ex had his energies turned toward work, and his volunteer projects.
As it turns out, religion is about conversation, and you can’t have that conversation with someone who doesn’t talk, can’t ask questions. So, hey, our decision seemed to be fated. Now, however, this old decision is finally bugging me. Why, you may ask. What has changed?
Math Boy’s come a long way in the intervening years; his conversation skills are improving by the day, and he is a better eater than any of his friends. My ex and I finally got that divorce that we needed forever, and we’ve both moved on to happier, more stable and nurturing relationships. My new partner, who was raised Pentecostal and now follows a Druid path, has a deeply spiritual approach to life; our talks often move into that realm as a natural matter of course.
What may be most pivotal, however, is that my new position as Pastoral Counselor has settled me into an office in which all my coworkers are either priests or ministers. I’ve rejoined the Interfaith Counsel in my town as well. Working with clergy — or, I should say, working with these specific and very special individuals — means that I leave every meeting feeling elevated and energized. I receive love and support from those around me every day — and let me tell you that’s a far cry from what I used to experience in the nonprofit and corporate world.
Let me explain a little more. My coworkers are mostly nearing retirement now. They are products of the Jesus-Is-Just-Alright-With-Me 1960’s, when Liberal Protestantism was in full swing, and Vatican II liberalized the Catholic Church. Most of these folks started their ministries in underserved parishes in the inner city, or worked in the streets bringing in drunks and addicts who needed a meal and a bed. Though they are all tweed blazers and button-downs in their old age, you can almost smell the pachouli wafting out of these folks’ shared past.
As true old-school liberal Christians, my coworkers don’t evangelize, which God knows I appreciate. What they do — and have been doing since their careers began— is work on themselves. They try to make themselves better people, stronger people, more compassionate and ethical people, so that they can help those who come to them seeking it. They meditate, they pray, and they accept everyone on the basis of their being human alone — they welcome gays, lesbians, transgendered people and everyone who walks through the door with equal love.
How, watching them day after day be just amazing people, could I not want a little bit of that for myself?
How, in fact, could I fail to let my son in on that kind of an experience? How could I fail to give him the chance to become one of those marvelous, loving people himself someday, if he desires it?
So now I’m left with two questions:
1) What exactly is the takeaway of religion, with all the unpleasant bits stripped away?
2) What part of a faith tradition is worth bringing over to the next generation? What, in the end, is worth saving?
I need to think on this for now.
Recent Posts
- Religion and the Shared-Custody Child: Reconsidering the No-Religion Decision
- Religion and the Shared-Custody Child Meet at Family Day
- Yut...The Number One Gift For Christmas
- We Live in the 1930's in New Hampshire
- Betta Fish: An Eccentric Gift for a Caring Friend
- How Do You Ground Yourself?
- What Love Is Not
- A1 Diner in Gardiner, Maine: Dinner with Friends in a Great Small Town
- Gardiner, Maine
- 10 Things I Know 10 Things About -- Refining A Topic For The Blogosphere
10/15/2015
10/06/2015
Religion and the Shared-Custody Child Meet at Family Day
We attended Family Day this weekend at the Navy Yard -- this meant bounce houses, magic shows, tours through ships and the Commander’s quarters, plus tons of interactive tours through the workshops.
We invited my ex-husband because it was his weekend with my son, and we wanted my son to take this one chance to see where my husband works. I figured the ex would grock it, too — he’s a fan of industrial history, and this shipyard has been building ships since 1690. The place is a red-brick-furnace-and-iron-tongs Steampunk orgasm. Given the predominance of room-sized heavy machinery, the place must also be deafening when the guys are all working at full tilt.
As we were walking around the grounds enjoying the sunshine and the well-exercised calm of the kids after we’d finally pulled them off the bouncy slides, my ex started talking about his fiancee. I asked how his religious journey has been going; my ex is an atheist — raised in a strict and conservative Catholic house — and his fiancee is a devout member of an Evangelical/Born Again church. Anecdote: she wouldn’t kiss him until after our divorce was final — which meant they went without their lips smacking for about a year!
As I sit here writing I realize the strictness of his upbringing probably finds kinship in the strictness of her taboos; however, most of the time, the nature of her religion simply infuriates my ex. He chafes at how the church members seem hog-tied by cognitive dissonance. He hates the whole “Jesus is God,” thing. He doubts the man Jesus even existed, justifies this particular doubt by siting that beyond the New Testament itself there is very little evidence to say otherwise.
Despite all this, he’s eager to talk about religion — in fact he admits he wishes someone COULD convince him to believe again in God. Thus far, however, no one has been able to. The fiancee’s minister has been having conversion talks with the ex. After about a year of these heat-to-heart talks, however,the minister has been warned to be careful, because the ex has been accused of trying to convert others to Atheism.
What does the faithful fiancee think of her faithless lover? I can only guess — but the wedding plans are still on.
Okay, I can hear some of you reminding me that the title of this post mentions “the dual custody child.” Are you eager for me to get on with it? Here’s the deal: My ex is absolutely against any type of religious education for our son. His dismissal of anything that can not be measured by a caliper, plus the painful memories from his years in parochial school, make him religious education’s most tireless attacker. He still attends church -- because his fiancee sings in the choir -- but he only goes on Sundays in which my son’s not visiting.
I on the other hand have my own horror stories from growing up in a rural section of the Bible Belt. Oh, how I don't miss the sleepovers where my friends discussed their plans for Armageddon. I remember waking up in terror one mooring convinced I heard the horn of Gabriel sounding the end of the world — turns out it was only the neighbor’s radio turned up to a favorite song. Unlike my friends, I wasn’t quite so eager to give up this earthly existence, even for one so sublime as heaven. Because, you know, it struck me as kind of egotistical for all those folks to assume they would be the ones saved in that last second. (Yes, I’ve heard all the arguments about being sure, about assurances, etc. Let’s just say I’ve never been convinced — “being saved” serves too obvious a purpose for it to be true.)
So, despite my own spiritual path AND the degree I struggled to get in Divinity School, I have my own love/hate relationship with faith, which means, thus far I’ve gone along with my ex’s desires. No religion for the boy!
Lately, that’s been bugging me more and more; right now, however, I don’t have time to tackle it. In tomorrow’s post I’ll try to unpack some of this baggage. Until then, be good, and drop a comment if you feel so moved!
Photo: By Staff Sgt. Dijon Rolle (United States Army) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
12/25/2014
Yut...The Number One Gift For Christmas
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12/22/2014
We Live in the 1930's in New Hampshire
I've heard it said that living in New Hampshire is living in the past. There's a lot of truth to that; you can easily live in a 1600's village in a 1600's house if you make a go of it. There weren't many villages, or many houses in 1600's New England, which does make it harder than other eras, but it's there as an option if you want. 1700's is easier, with more towns and more houses. The 1800's are easy; it seems like most of New Hampshire was installed between the American Revolution and the end of the Victorian era. Then the 1900's...well, they happened, but not here. At least not much.
But that's all architecture and civic zones. Let's talk lifestyles. My family, for instance, lives in the 1930's. That could be stretched to the 1950's, perhaps, if we're talking about a bookish family who spurns that black and white box in the corner and "I Love Lucy." In the afternoons and evenings we play board games, go for walks and do a little (not nearly enough) musical practice. We all read A LOT.
When that gets old we go bowling. We practice our archery. We hike. In winter we go snowshoeing, sledding, and skiing. In the summer we paddle around on kayaks and fish.
On bad weather weekends we go to the movies or a museum, or hang out with friends.
Blackouts aren't a big deal to us, as so much of what we do doesn't require electricity. Any of these things we could have done fifty or seventy years ago, which I find comforting. Why? I'm not sure, but if pressed, I can guess: by living a "technology backward" lifestyle, we release ourselves from two irritants of contemporary life.
1) We're free of the constant presence of a television in our living space. How many of our friends have the television on most of the day when they are home? Tons. Even when they have guests over -- and this is most often seen in the elderly, I find -- the guests will be forced to either watch quietly or talk over whatever is happening on the set. Visually, a turned-off TV is a void in a room, and let's face it, it does not enhance any decorating scheme. Okay, and this may be just me, but even when a TV is turned off, its blank, black face stares, demanding to be turned back on again. A TV is a spoiled brat that demands complete attention from everyone around it.
2) We're free from the subtle social demands to upgrade to the latest home entertainment technology on the market. We no longer have to wonder when the planned obsolescence of our expensive equipment will kick in. We no longer pay for the stuff, or the services that support them.
So we’re pretty happy, back here in the 1930’s. Come visit sometime. We’ll play a rousing game of Ticket to Ride and make cookies. Hugs ‘til then!
12/09/2014
Betta Fish: An Eccentric Gift for a Caring Friend
Is there someone on your gift list this year for whom nothing seems quite right? Have you considered giving a betta? They are great company, easy to care for, inexpensive to maintain, and a thoroughly eccentric gift!
Now, I'm not so foolhardy as to recommend you run out and buy everyone on your list a fish. No, no, no. We all know -- there are people out there who do not do well with living things -- plants, animals, or people. Let's forget about those folks just now. No, we are talking rather about that particular person on your list (and, go on, it can be yourself) who would really groove on getting a little fleck of living color for the holidays.
Bettas are great for kids who love animals and can handle performing a small (and I mean really small) amount of care & feeding. I'm considering one as a gift for a 9-year-old boy we know who loves animals but can't have pets because his mom is alergic to all furry animals.
Bettas are great too for the kind of adults whom you you know would talk a the fish a the bowl when no one is looking. I'm that kind of person; I've been talking to a betta for several years now.
Here's a note: our betta has no name, but not because we don't care about her. Let's blame it on superstition; every time I gave a fish a name in the past, that fish immediately died. Our nameless betta has managed to escape the jaws of death for several years now.
We keep her bowl either at the center of the kitchen table -- where it works as a centerpiece -- or over on the counter nestled in with our other plants. The betta follows us around as we bustle around preparing or serving meals. She asks for food when she's hungry, and generally is good company.
Sound good? Here's what you need to get started:
1. A Betta: We bought ours for $1.00, when she was just a baby -- so small we could harldy tell what color she would be.
Not all bettas cost $1. A quick check of the Petco betta page shows you can spend up to $40 for an Elephant Ear Halfmoon Plakat Betta, but most go for about $3.
2) A Simple Glass Bowl: When we got her, I'd been recently inspired by the fish hanging out at our local coffee shop -- a goldfish in a glass vase, swimming around the root system of a spath plant. At the time I'd just gotten over closing down my 10 gallon aquarium, and the simplicity of a plain glass fish bowl appealed to me.
Our Betta lives in an octagonal plastic aquarium ($13 at Savers) that holds about two gallons. Anything that holds a half gallon or more would be fine.
Bettas prefer still water, so I didn't even set up the filter and all the other nonsense. I just filled the thing from the tap, and added enough Stress Coat to get rid of the chlorine. I also add Stress Zyme, which is friendly bacteria that keep sludge from forming in the tank.
3. Food: Betta food is $2.99 for enough to keep you going for months, if not a year or more for a baby fish.
4. Greenery: We added an aquatic plant, the Amazon Sword. Ours came rooted into a piece of driftwood, so all we had to do was place it on the bottom of the aquarium. This makes the betta feel safe from imagined predators, plus it's attractive.
5) Care: I refill the tank with fresh water every time it gets murky looking. Your fish can go several weeks without a water change, but I would recommend a water change once a week. With each refill I treat the water with about a teaspoon of the water-treatment chemicals. You can skip this step if have the patience to let the water sit there for a few days so that the chlorine has time to "cook out" of the water on its own.
There are plenty of sources on the internet that will give you lots of information on bettas. I'm hoping you consider giving one as a gift if you have a responsible, caring, and slightly eccentric friend on your list. Have fun!
By Gourami Watcher (talk) 18:27, 24 August 2011 (UTC) (Wikipedia (file log)) [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC-BY-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
12/02/2014
How Do You Ground Yourself?
Do you have an activity that makes you feel calmer, saner, more in touch with yourself? If you're not able to do this thing for a few days, do you notice feeling unsettled, out of balance, a little off? If the answer is "yes," then that activity is your grounding mechanism, and it's important to keep it going. Develop it. Pay attention to how it affects you. Why? When life gets tough it can really save your bacon.
As you've probably noticed by now, adulthood, especially mid-life where I am now, can crush you. At this very moment, my man and I are the only "adults" responsible for keeping an expanding circle of pets, kids, step-kids, and elderly parents fed, clothed, warm, healthy and socialized.
I'm hyperventilating just typing this, and I haven't even mentioned jobs, bills, adult education, health insurance or...okay, I'll stop here before I pass out.
Let's get back to that grounding bit. I have three things I can point to that I depend on to get me through the days. I can skip them, say, while traveling, but the more stress I'm under, the more I suffer for going without.
So, what are these little miracle workers?
- Quiet time in the morning.
- Writing.
- Reading.
- Walking, especially in the evening.
- Sitting.
In the next few days I'll revisit each of these in detail. In the meantime, you should know that for number five I don't mean necessarily "sitting mediation" as in zazen, with the mats and the pillows and the bell, but just plain sitting...which I will explain later, I promise.
The above is, by the way, just my personal list. My man, for example, says that his drive time to work is when he grounds himself; that's when he gets ready for whatever might happen during the day.
Another close friend, back when he had two young kids, serious health problems, shaky finances and a weekly commute between LA and San Francisco, confessed that his time in the airplane was his only "me time." That man left his life soon afterwards and spent six months at the Dalai Lama's compound in India. When he returned to the states his wife and he opened a yoga studio in their house, so I think the airplane thing wasn't enough. It was good for him figure out and then to do what he needed, and let's face it -- he was lucky to have an understanding wife.
So, what is your grounding activity? How often do you do it? What happens if you don't? Is it enough to suit your stress levels, or do you need to ramp up? What would that look like? Let me know, I'd love to hear!
Tsukioka Yoshitoshi [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
11/30/2014
What Love Is Not
In celebration of the last day of November's NaBloPoMo I'm riffing on a topic near to my heart: What is love? I find that, while defining love is hard, defining what love is not is easy.
What Love Is Not:
1. Love is not a numbers game. If you walk into a room and start assigning scores to people based on their looks, their clothes, their income, their status, their car, their IQ, their success or their probability for success in the future, you are not looking for love. You are shallow. Go home until you learn to value other people as much as you value yourself. Then you might be worth knowing.
2. Love is not conquest. If you have to do something to trap that person -- I'm thinking of the many women who still get pregnant to keep that guy around, (admittedly that rarely works these days)-- you ought to try game hunting in the Kalahari instead. What you are doing is not love. You do not deserve someone you have to trap. And why would you want to be with someone who wouldn't choose to be with you, willingly?
3. Love is not having a "beard". If you keep someone around because they look good on your arm when you're out in public, you are not doing love. You need to hire a professional escort. At least that's an honest.
4. Love is not keeping someone around because you feel like you need to be in relationship in order to be/seem "normal." Grow up. Learn to be happy being you. Have the strength to live your life in the open, without trying to look like what you THINK others expect.
5. Love is not keeping someone around because you are afraid growing old and dying alone. Oh, and PS: Everyone dies alone. No one can follow where you're going. Plus, everyone dies. Get used to that thought, now.
Let's summarize here. Love is about being with someone because you love the tiny mouse heart inside them. You want to protect that tiny mouse. You want it to be happy. Anything else is not love.
Photo: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/45/Antique_Valentine_1909_01.jpg
11/29/2014
A1 Diner in Gardiner, Maine: Dinner with Friends in a Great Small Town
This is the A1 Diner in Gardiner, Maine. They offer healthy diner food that won't make you hate yourself or your face break out. Their lengthy specials board, which you can see on the wall behind the counter, includes Vietnamese Street Sandwiches, Indian Vindaloo, Greek Spanikopita, Italian Calimari, a couple of Mexican dishes, and several other things I can't recall now. I'm only able to remember, apparently, the things I consider ordering.
My friend Marjene (you can see her waving in the top photo) took us there for dinner to thank us for driving over from New Hampshire to help her inspect the house she's considering.
She needed someone with construction and contracting experience (this is where SM comes in, the guy in the orange shirt) to look at the foundation, the wiring, the plumbing, the roof, and tell her whether the house will stand up to another 100 years of Maine weather or not.
It will. It's a gem -- with working fireplace, windowseats in the staircase landing, huge windows everywhere, two extra bedrooms in the attic, large front porch, and tons of orignal circa-1900 features. And at $135,000 for 2,410 square feet, 3 beds, 2 baths, (plus the finshed attic) it's a bargain. The house is two doors down from the town common and playground, a short walk to a vibrant downtown, plus it's walking distance to Marjene's job. No wonder she's excited!
We're happy for her, too. Cheers to you, Marjene! You deserve only the best!
Gardiner, Maine
This is where we were today -- Gardiner, Maine. This is the Anglican Church on the common. That's my shadow. My friend Marjene was looking at a house to buy around the corner. Her boy was being overexcited, so I took him outside so his mom could have some time to think.
We walked down to the common so he could climb around on the gazebo and play in the playground. Sweet town! Great real estate. Inexpensive. Dreamy.