Halloween has come and gone. Thanksgiving is around the corner. Soon it will be New Year’s Eve, then boom: 2010.
Is it just me, or is time moving faster and faster the older we get? There was a point in my life that 2010 sounded like a futuristic date straight out of a sci-fi film, a date when society would be so over crowded we would be forced to eat dead people in the form of green Triscuits or a date when robots would rule the world. But here we are, and 2010 isn’t a sci-fi plot device — 2010 is next year, two months from now.
Some days seem to take forever. I sit watching and waiting for the numbers in the bottom right hand corner of my computer screen to change. It seems like they never do. Yet, the last year flew by in an instant.
The holidays may be markers of the year past, but even those are quickly fading into oblivion. There’s nothing futuristic about them at all.
I feel like a large portion of my teenage and young adult years centered on defending my beliefs, or lack thereof. I have reached a point where I am not only comfortable with what I do not believe, I’m also comfortable with what others do believe … until, of course, it crosses the line into proselytizing, hypocrisy or fundamentalism (but that’s a whole other blog subject).
I have met a lot of deeply religious people of many different faiths who are the kindest, most generous and loving people I have come to know. But, I will never understand their beliefs or share them. It’s simply not who I am. I am still, I hope, a kind, generous and loving person.
I was fairly young, about 5 or 6, when I strayed from the path of religion. There wasn’t a particular incident that set me on this path. It was more just a moment of clarity. I became an observer with a critical eye, and started to see my own religion, Judaism, and many other things, from the outside looking in.
The outside looking in isn’t typically the most exciting or popular place to be. It’s actually downright lonely and overwhelmingly quiet. But it is the place I was meant to be. It made me who I am.
In high school I wrote an editorial for the school paper about my support for the separation of church and state. After the article ran, someone shoe polished my car with some not-so-flattering comments. At 16, I already felt awkward, different and ostracized. This only succeeded in driving those feelings deeper.
That same year, I left the school choir and lost many friends because I wasn’t comfortable singing songs that blatantly preached about Jesus. I didn’t think school was the time or place for that. The choir teacher disagreed loudly, and the Clark County school board backed her up.
As a result of such experiences, there were times I had deep disdain towards religion.
I also had positive experiences with religion. I grew up in a Jewish household, attended Hebrew school and later worked at a Jewish newspaper, where I had the opportunity to visit Israel. I felt amazingly at peace in Israel, even during a time of war.
I think it surprised no one more than me when I started working at the Jewish Bulletin. A lot of my friends and family, meanwhile, found it strange that I so became so enamored with covering hate crimes. But for me, meeting other victims of religious intolerance was a cathartic experience. It also taught me that I was channeling my own form of religious intolerance. It taught me about acceptance and even a little bit of appreciation.
Religion is a topic that ignites rage, passion, fear and fury in even the most mild mannered people. It has certainly done so in me at different points in my life. I’m sure it will again. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Dialogue is healthy.
There are people, religious and non religious, with wonderful things to offer. It would be a shame to discard any one of them just because their views are different.
Not to be a party pooper, but I think to drive traffic one should just talk about religion. I have experienced unprecedented traffic on my blog due to one post in particular talking about religion. It’s strange. Weird. I dont’ understand it. I find art more interesting, mostly. Religion is just a filler.
The police showed up while my husband was painting a commissioned mural yesterday as part of a beautification project. As he writes in his own blog, one of the store owners called the cops and told them he was a tagger. Clearly he is not — he’s been painting utility boxes and more in the shopping center for the past few years. The police were totally cool about it and cool with him, but the store owner was still cranky and filed a report. So my husband is holding off on finishing the mural until the police iron out all the details/legalities. I imagine it must drive my husband crazy to know he has this unfinished piece just sitting there. What’s even crazier is that this store owner would make a fuss about art. Apparently some people prefer a life without color.
*Update: The police found that the wall is legally public domain, so he can start painting again!
So…I am rapidly approaching my mid-thirties. Yikes. I can tell you I never thought this would happen. And my hip flexors are hurting. It is part of my grand plan to not fall apart, yet, this grand plan seems to feel like I am falling apart.
I bought an exercise ball to keep at work. Since I started working again two months ago, I have wanted to remain conscious of not becoming a casualty of the desk job flab that is so easy to accumulate. I brought in my yoga mat, I began a walking routine at lunch. It’s all coming into place.
But today, when I was sitting on my ball, something must have snapped. Because here I am, now home from a long day in front of the computer screen, (and here I am facing another computer screen at home), and my hip flexors are telling me that they have been stressed out.
My medical student husband says it is a sign I have weak lower abs. Duh! But how does that affect my hip flexors? Anyway, this is all just a symptom of my susceptibility of becoming a flabby desk jobber. Ugh. Calgon, take me away!
I think there’s something in the water, or maybe in the air, but there is something aligned, for sure that is causing people I know to procreate left or right. Perhaps they are taking more family vacations that make them realize that they want more of the blissful happy, drawn-out days of quality, unadulterated family time.
I, too, have had such yearnings. Thankfully, my body is outfitted with protective armor that greatly fights off the opportunity to procreate, whatever that means. But as I am realizing that the boys are growing up and will soon be going to kindergarten, I wonder when I will really start wishing for another kid that can grace us with his or her cuteness. They grow up fast, as I am told, and as I am witnessing, and there was a point to this post. I just forgot it.
For the past week, we thought our son might be getting a little brother or sister. Turns out it was nothing more than a scare. I would be totally relieved if I weren’t so surprisingly disappointed.
I always thought I only wanted one child, so it’s funny that I feel like I lost something or someone — someone that never even existed!
We returned yesterday from a family vacation. Just the three of us (no fourth , afterall). We went to the zoo, the beach, the park, IKEA. All the typical stuff.
But really there was nothing typical about our vacation. I mean, when you think about it, on a day to day basis, we spend more time at work than with our families. Spending a full week with my husband and son was actually pretty atypical. I loved every minute of it. Also noteworthy, the Swedish meatballs.
Perhaps next time we will have another family member to bring along. Well, maybe in a couple years.
Apparently all I needed to do was be a little heretical and mention Jesus. I have another blog, which is anonymous for some reason. It doesn’t really make sense that it is anonymous, but it is. Anyhoo, about a month ago I posted about a triathlon my husband did, which began with a prayer circle.
That lent me to rant about how I have been confronted by fervent Christianity and widespread religiosity in such a constant stream since I moved here to the Midwest, it has really been a cultural shock. My site traffic has exploded, just for this post. I don’t know what is going on, but I believe I may have been tagged a heretic.
Not that I mind. Well, I am a little curious. I hope not to have a letter bomb exploding in my face sometime soon if they ever find out my identity. They very well could. It’s not so hidden. I will think positive thoughts that whoever is flocking to my blog to only read that post and not leave any comments agrees with my assertions and isn’t a flaming lunatic with an itchy trigger finger.
Ah, the joys of cyberspace. Sometimes it just seems like it would be in everyone’s best interest to have a best friend who is also a tech geek.
Yes, the wonderful world of Facebook has tapped me in to long lost nemesi (is that plural?) and friends from past lives. It’s a little trippy to be communicating, albeit limited communication, with people I have not talked to in decades.
Aleza mentioned a sort of voyeuristic quality to Facebook and other social networking sites, and this is something that I think draws people in. I’ll tell you a story about this one time when I posted pictures of my husband getting a tattoo. For the entire week following the posting, people at his medical school he didn’t even know came up to him to tell him they saw his tattoo pictures on Facebook. He was a little terrified of Facebook before this incident, but afterwards he wondered who else could see things he wasn’t necessarily interested in sharing with people. Because I had posted the photos on my profile, they were visible to all my “friends” and all of my friends’ friends. The network spiraled out of control.
My husband is still rejecting the idea of Facebook. He refuses to join. He is a revolutionary, of course. And we will all learn our lessons in the end.
azfree
shebshi
