I know I should probably do a ~year in review~, but I plan on doing that on my regular blog, so instead, this morning, I'm going to talk about injury.
Because guess who is injured yet again. This time it's the top of my left foot. I mention briefly how my calf muscles have locked up and my left foot was bothering me, but I woke up this morning and found myself hobbling to get anywhere. It honestly feels like someone drove their heel into the top of my foot and broke a bone. Which begs the question: have I been getting into street fights in my sleep? Because I can't figure out any other way I'm getting this random-ass injuries.
Again, it is very frustrating to have to sit out again, especially after spending a week on vacation. The 16-miler is in three weeks and I've yet to run any farther than 10 since my half-marathon. Part of me is hoping for a snow delay, even though there's a good chance that the snow delay will land on a day I have classes.
I think the most frustrating part is the fact that this is just more proof that I'm getting old. I'm not at my physical peak, and, what's worse, I didn't take advantage of said physical peak. I was just a standard teenager/college student who thought so much of herself when she would go on the elliptical for a whole 30 minutes. And now I'm 27, finally interested in what the human body is capable of, and I'm getting injured left and right. For fuck's sake, there was no such thing as sore legs when I ran track, even on the days they'd surprise us sprinters with a 3-mile run.
But, really, the only thing I can do is give myself the rest I need. Being mad that I'm not a spring chicken anymore isn't going to get me anywhere. I just need to do some yoga (and do my homework for my impending yoga class), relax, enjoy New Year's Eve, and see where life takes me. Because, as I'll recap in my crafts blog, I went on quite the journey in 2013, figuratively and literally.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Monday, December 30, 2013
Day 147 of 365: A Busy Bit of a Week
I bounced from my textbooks to my computer yesterday, alternating between getting the prerequisite reading done for my first day of class (remember when the first day of class meant no homework assigned, at all, even for the second class?) and editing my hopefully-to-be-e-book-soon collection of modeling essays. Somewhere in the evening, my husband said simply, "Look at all the pokers you have in the fire right now."
It's going to be a busy couple of weeks. I start up my new tai chi place next week. There is a second place that has been alternating between coming up with a huge promotional plan and dragging their feet. I continue to write for Thought Catalog, only now I'm trying to space out my essays in a way that would work for the potential release of my e-book. And then there's my modeling memoirs. Granted, e-book through Thought Catalog is on a much lower level than, say, a nationally published trade paperback, but I still want it in its best shape. I've been chatting with one of the producers at Thought Catalog and he's already passed word to the publication department, which really puts the pressure on for me to deliver.
And then there's the Derry 16-Miler, which, to be honest, I still don't know how I'm going to be ready in time. I've somehow injured the top of my left foot and, combine that with dual muscle cramps in my calves and an ice storm, turning the roads into an ice rink, I'm already a day or two behind in my back-up-to-my-back-up training schedule. But, eh, what can you do.
It's been over a month since I've touched my third manuscript, and I really want to get back into writing it. I'm a solid 2/3rds of the way done, which is simultaneously exhilarating and frustrating as all getout. It's the 10-mile mark on the 16-miler, if you will. You've accomplished so much and you're closer to the finish line than where you originally started, but - fuck - you still have your work cut out for you.
And then, of course, there's this blog. Which, if you can't tell by the string of more personal diary-esque posts, is becoming a bit more difficult to keep up. But I'm inching in on the halfway mark, and like hell if I'm going to quit now. I'll seriously have nightmares where I find out that I forgot a day.
But I like that. I like being busy. I like having layers when it comes to what I put on my plate. Or, should I say, I like having had so many pokers in the fire. I like being able to look back and go, "Look at all the stuff I was able to accomplish. Look at what I could do."
There are some other plans in the works, but, again, man makes plans and God laughs, so perhaps a later time I'll be discussing those.
It's going to be a busy couple of weeks. I start up my new tai chi place next week. There is a second place that has been alternating between coming up with a huge promotional plan and dragging their feet. I continue to write for Thought Catalog, only now I'm trying to space out my essays in a way that would work for the potential release of my e-book. And then there's my modeling memoirs. Granted, e-book through Thought Catalog is on a much lower level than, say, a nationally published trade paperback, but I still want it in its best shape. I've been chatting with one of the producers at Thought Catalog and he's already passed word to the publication department, which really puts the pressure on for me to deliver.
And then there's the Derry 16-Miler, which, to be honest, I still don't know how I'm going to be ready in time. I've somehow injured the top of my left foot and, combine that with dual muscle cramps in my calves and an ice storm, turning the roads into an ice rink, I'm already a day or two behind in my back-up-to-my-back-up training schedule. But, eh, what can you do.
It's been over a month since I've touched my third manuscript, and I really want to get back into writing it. I'm a solid 2/3rds of the way done, which is simultaneously exhilarating and frustrating as all getout. It's the 10-mile mark on the 16-miler, if you will. You've accomplished so much and you're closer to the finish line than where you originally started, but - fuck - you still have your work cut out for you.
And then, of course, there's this blog. Which, if you can't tell by the string of more personal diary-esque posts, is becoming a bit more difficult to keep up. But I'm inching in on the halfway mark, and like hell if I'm going to quit now. I'll seriously have nightmares where I find out that I forgot a day.
But I like that. I like being busy. I like having layers when it comes to what I put on my plate. Or, should I say, I like having had so many pokers in the fire. I like being able to look back and go, "Look at all the stuff I was able to accomplish. Look at what I could do."
There are some other plans in the works, but, again, man makes plans and God laughs, so perhaps a later time I'll be discussing those.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Day 146 of 365: Let's Talk About Last Night's Fights
Hey, have we figured out that I'm a huge MMA fan yet?
It is the one sport that I will watch obsessively. So help me God, from a free Fight Night on Fox Sports 1 to a pay-per-view gem, I am there. I'll miss hockey games (even Bruins games). I'll miss a LOT of football games. But I won't miss fight nights.
Last night cemented the fact that 2013 was quite possibly the craziest year for fighting. In 2013, we've seen a heavyweight fight go five rounds in an incredible display of technique (which just does not happen with heavyweight fights), we've watched guaranteed champions lose their belt, keep their belt by the skin of their teeth, defend their belt, only to find out that they had broken their toe in the middle of a round (Google "Jon Jones Broken Toe" to see what I mean). We watched George St. Pierre -- arguably one of the best fighters ever -- step down from his post and we watched as Anderson Silva -- also arguable one of the best fighters ever -- get knocked out after clowning around in his fight.
And last night? We watched Ronda Rousey go more than one round in a very technical and precise fight with Meisha Tate.
Oh, and Anderson Silva broke his fucking leg on Weidman's knee.
Everyone knew that Ronda Rousey was going to win her fight. No one knew who was going to win in the Silva/Weidman rematch. And definitely no one expected the fight to end with Anderson swinging a leg, catching it on Weidman's knee, and splitting it clean it half.
Silva has powerful kicks. He's kicked a man flat-flooted against the chest and broken his ribs (and stopping the fight). So I'm not surprised that he has enough force to break one of his legs if the kick is interrupted by a solid force. But that didn't stop the horrified look on my face as I watched Silva's knee go in one direction and the shin go in another.
This year has been an insane year for fighting. From the rise of women's MMA to the downfall of many a beloved fighter. This last card for 2013 was filled with incredible fights, culminating in one of the biggest surprise endings ever. I can only imagine what 2014 will have in store.
It is the one sport that I will watch obsessively. So help me God, from a free Fight Night on Fox Sports 1 to a pay-per-view gem, I am there. I'll miss hockey games (even Bruins games). I'll miss a LOT of football games. But I won't miss fight nights.
Last night cemented the fact that 2013 was quite possibly the craziest year for fighting. In 2013, we've seen a heavyweight fight go five rounds in an incredible display of technique (which just does not happen with heavyweight fights), we've watched guaranteed champions lose their belt, keep their belt by the skin of their teeth, defend their belt, only to find out that they had broken their toe in the middle of a round (Google "Jon Jones Broken Toe" to see what I mean). We watched George St. Pierre -- arguably one of the best fighters ever -- step down from his post and we watched as Anderson Silva -- also arguable one of the best fighters ever -- get knocked out after clowning around in his fight.
And last night? We watched Ronda Rousey go more than one round in a very technical and precise fight with Meisha Tate.
Oh, and Anderson Silva broke his fucking leg on Weidman's knee.
Everyone knew that Ronda Rousey was going to win her fight. No one knew who was going to win in the Silva/Weidman rematch. And definitely no one expected the fight to end with Anderson swinging a leg, catching it on Weidman's knee, and splitting it clean it half.
Silva has powerful kicks. He's kicked a man flat-flooted against the chest and broken his ribs (and stopping the fight). So I'm not surprised that he has enough force to break one of his legs if the kick is interrupted by a solid force. But that didn't stop the horrified look on my face as I watched Silva's knee go in one direction and the shin go in another.
This year has been an insane year for fighting. From the rise of women's MMA to the downfall of many a beloved fighter. This last card for 2013 was filled with incredible fights, culminating in one of the biggest surprise endings ever. I can only imagine what 2014 will have in store.
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Day 145 of 365: Why I Have Given Up the Pursuit of Happiness
“I have a long way to go before happy,” she told me after Christmas. Like happiness is an X on a map and every tragedy is essentially a gust of wind that throws us to the other end – and life is that constant journey, scratching and clawing and fumbling our way back.
Is this the meaning of life? Reenacting Sisyphus, pushing our burdens uphill, fruitlessly hoping we’ll make it to the top, only to watch it all tumble back? Is the quest for happiness nothing more than the walk back down, counting our footsteps, calculating just how far we have to go until we’re happy again?
I’m sorry, Zeus, but I’m leaving my post. The quest for happiness is a misguided one and I have no interest in pushing the boulder anymore.
Some would be so naïve to say that I’ve left this journey because I am somehow already there. I don’t need to be Sisyphus if I’m already at the top, right? If you can check three or more things of the socially accepted list of accomplishments, then, congratulations, you have arrived at your destination. They point this out to me like I’m not already aware of my luck.
And I am lucky. Absurdly lucky. Even by First World standards, I’ve been given a life that I probably do not deserve. I am lucky. But not necessarily happy. At least not – especially not – all the time.
I’ve given up the quest for happiness because no one is happy all the time. One cannot hope to be happy all the time. Happiness is an emotion, one that will come and go, like sadness and anger and frustration. How exhausting life would be if we scrambled for a constant feeling of desperation the way we do for happiness. I do not want to scramble for happiness, eschewing all other emotions because they’re somehow harder to process. Happiness is not a destination; it’s a type of weather we experience while on the road.
I’m on a new quest: a quest for peace of mind. A quest to find an inner balance that can take the good, the bad, the melancholy, the tragic, the beautiful – take it in equally and see that the whole range of human emotions and experiences aren’t necessarily sectioned off in such neat categories. I’m on a quest to live in the present with my eyes wide open, thinking no less of myself if I am laughing or crying or sighing wearily.
I’m on a quest for connecting with the rest of the world. As Bishop Desmond Tutu once said: I cannot be human on my own. I want to take that step forward and be in the universe. I want to help others and maybe through kindness and charity and providing a moment of happiness for others, I find meaning and satisfaction and quite possibly a moment or two of happiness for myself.
I’m in the pursuit of life as music. Happiness is one note, striking sharp or flat and not much more. I want to experience and appreciate life the way I appreciate and experience music, with the crescendos and decrescendos, the high notes and the low notes, the brief cacophony before the symphony unfolds. How foolhardy would it be to pursue of a note – one note – and demand it be played indefinitely?
I’ve given up the pursuit of happiness for the same reason I’m not in the pursuit of the C-sharp. It doesn’t matter if one note might be harder to come by then the others. In the end, it is just noise if it is all that is played.
In short: I’ve given up on the pursuit of noise. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of melody.
Is this the meaning of life? Reenacting Sisyphus, pushing our burdens uphill, fruitlessly hoping we’ll make it to the top, only to watch it all tumble back? Is the quest for happiness nothing more than the walk back down, counting our footsteps, calculating just how far we have to go until we’re happy again?
I’m sorry, Zeus, but I’m leaving my post. The quest for happiness is a misguided one and I have no interest in pushing the boulder anymore.
Some would be so naïve to say that I’ve left this journey because I am somehow already there. I don’t need to be Sisyphus if I’m already at the top, right? If you can check three or more things of the socially accepted list of accomplishments, then, congratulations, you have arrived at your destination. They point this out to me like I’m not already aware of my luck.
And I am lucky. Absurdly lucky. Even by First World standards, I’ve been given a life that I probably do not deserve. I am lucky. But not necessarily happy. At least not – especially not – all the time.
I’ve given up the quest for happiness because no one is happy all the time. One cannot hope to be happy all the time. Happiness is an emotion, one that will come and go, like sadness and anger and frustration. How exhausting life would be if we scrambled for a constant feeling of desperation the way we do for happiness. I do not want to scramble for happiness, eschewing all other emotions because they’re somehow harder to process. Happiness is not a destination; it’s a type of weather we experience while on the road.
I’m on a new quest: a quest for peace of mind. A quest to find an inner balance that can take the good, the bad, the melancholy, the tragic, the beautiful – take it in equally and see that the whole range of human emotions and experiences aren’t necessarily sectioned off in such neat categories. I’m on a quest to live in the present with my eyes wide open, thinking no less of myself if I am laughing or crying or sighing wearily.
I’m on a quest for connecting with the rest of the world. As Bishop Desmond Tutu once said: I cannot be human on my own. I want to take that step forward and be in the universe. I want to help others and maybe through kindness and charity and providing a moment of happiness for others, I find meaning and satisfaction and quite possibly a moment or two of happiness for myself.
I’m in the pursuit of life as music. Happiness is one note, striking sharp or flat and not much more. I want to experience and appreciate life the way I appreciate and experience music, with the crescendos and decrescendos, the high notes and the low notes, the brief cacophony before the symphony unfolds. How foolhardy would it be to pursue of a note – one note – and demand it be played indefinitely?
I’ve given up the pursuit of happiness for the same reason I’m not in the pursuit of the C-sharp. It doesn’t matter if one note might be harder to come by then the others. In the end, it is just noise if it is all that is played.
In short: I’ve given up on the pursuit of noise. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of melody.
Friday, December 27, 2013
Day 144 of 365: Home Again
Home again, home again, jiggity jig.
Today is our last day in Ohio. The week sped by, so much so that the gym/running routine we planned on ended up falling completely by the wayside. But that's all right: my right hip had been feeling slightly out of its socket and my left knee had been giving me trouble, so it was nice to take a week off, even if that means I only have 3 weeks to train for the 16-miler.
Aside from events and gettogethers (and shooting a rifle outside in a ditch, but that's for another time), it's been a flurry of emails and order forms and preparation for the New Year. It's been a constant stream of emailing my yoga instructor, my future teacher, the place I will be teaching tai chi at and the place I used to teach tai chi at. I've been emailing one of the producers at Thought Catalog and getting things finalized for me to submit my modeling memoir to them (which is FINALLY fully-written and in the first stages of editing) as well as submitting various essays (and thinking up various essays). The latter part has been incredibly difficult: I am a firm believer in writing only because you have something to say, not because you want to say something, but I want to keep my presence on the website open, making people more likely to buy my (e)book.
The nice thing is, is if I get any inclination, any idea, I can just stream-of-conscious write it here until I feel like I have a decent base, polish it up, and send it. This blog idea was probably one of the best ideas I had for 2013, second only to leaving teaching/picking up a tai chi gig.
Our goal is to make it back to New England by nightfall. If we don't, we'll stay at a hotel and try again in the morning. Although no intentional pitstops in Hershey, PE, this time around =)
Today is our last day in Ohio. The week sped by, so much so that the gym/running routine we planned on ended up falling completely by the wayside. But that's all right: my right hip had been feeling slightly out of its socket and my left knee had been giving me trouble, so it was nice to take a week off, even if that means I only have 3 weeks to train for the 16-miler.
Aside from events and gettogethers (and shooting a rifle outside in a ditch, but that's for another time), it's been a flurry of emails and order forms and preparation for the New Year. It's been a constant stream of emailing my yoga instructor, my future teacher, the place I will be teaching tai chi at and the place I used to teach tai chi at. I've been emailing one of the producers at Thought Catalog and getting things finalized for me to submit my modeling memoir to them (which is FINALLY fully-written and in the first stages of editing) as well as submitting various essays (and thinking up various essays). The latter part has been incredibly difficult: I am a firm believer in writing only because you have something to say, not because you want to say something, but I want to keep my presence on the website open, making people more likely to buy my (e)book.
The nice thing is, is if I get any inclination, any idea, I can just stream-of-conscious write it here until I feel like I have a decent base, polish it up, and send it. This blog idea was probably one of the best ideas I had for 2013, second only to leaving teaching/picking up a tai chi gig.
Our goal is to make it back to New England by nightfall. If we don't, we'll stay at a hotel and try again in the morning. Although no intentional pitstops in Hershey, PE, this time around =)
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Day 143 of 365: It's a Christmas Miracle
Once upon a time, I seriously considered going back to school to become a certified yoga instructor (or Registered Yoga Teacher, as they are officially called). I looked at all the different options: the nights and weekends classes, the month-long intensive getaways. Originally it was something I retreated to when work as a regular teacher was getting to be too much. After I left the early education world and started teaching tai chi, I realized how much I enjoyed teaching something physical to adults -- how calming it was for me -- and I realized that yoga teaching was way more than an escape route from a toxic environment.
Then I found out that my favorite yoga studio was hosting a teacher training for 2014. The teacher in charge came down to our studio to run a Saturday morning class (along with a Q&A about the training afterward). I went in only for the class, as we had just purchased a house (with a sudden and unexpected jump in our closing costs), I was only teaching a few classes a week (and the model jobs were sporadic at best), and were gearing up to buy a second car. It made little sense to spend thousands of dollars on yet more classes, especially since that was what I had did three years prior to become certified as a teacher in Massachusetts (and look where all that additional education led me). I enjoyed the class, joked around with the other yoga students I knew, and left.
But leaving felt wrong, to be perfectly honest. I went back feeling like I departed from a party just as it was about to get good. Gut feelings don't put money in the bank, but I couldn't ignore it.
Even though you can't ignore your gut, you can forgo any actions based on your gut. The deadline for enrollment came and went and I was still very much at home, not signed up for the teacher training. I thought, "Next year, next year," and then I thought about how, next year, there's a very high chance that I'll be trying for children, and there's nothing more frustrating than having to drop out of something because of a pregnancy. I shrugged my shoulders, realizing that the timeline for "things to do before kids" was getting unmistakably short, and decided that maybe yoga training would just be on the back burner indefinitely.
Two weeks after the deadline, we finally bought our second car. We went to Target, bought a big red bow (big for presents, but comically short for cars. Because Lexuses get the big bows and Subarus get the Target ones), and declared Merry Christmas. We decided that the car was essentially "our" Christmas present, and vowed to get relatively small things for each other come actual Christmas time ("small" being the relative term, as both my husband and I tend to go overboard on presents if we're not given parameters).
Cut to Christmas. My husband received a bunch of comedy books, as well as a Star Wars sound effect machine (which coincided nicely with what his brother and wife got him, but that's for another time). I opened my box to see a pile of textbooks and the new student questionnaire. I read the page over, not really processing what I was reading, and promptly looked up at my husband with tears in my eyes.
"Is this the teacher training?"
As my husband so puts it, he gave me the gift of homework. I had to chuckle, because a homework assignment was actually sent out two weeks prior for the first day of school -- which happens to be next Saturday, the 4th. It reminds me of college, getting a huge reading assignment to finish in days. It's going to be a lot different than college was: science was never my strongsuit and teacher training focuses heavily on anatomy. But I'm ready for it. I'm ready to read and take notes and do what it takes to become a registered yoga teacher.
Namasté.
Then I found out that my favorite yoga studio was hosting a teacher training for 2014. The teacher in charge came down to our studio to run a Saturday morning class (along with a Q&A about the training afterward). I went in only for the class, as we had just purchased a house (with a sudden and unexpected jump in our closing costs), I was only teaching a few classes a week (and the model jobs were sporadic at best), and were gearing up to buy a second car. It made little sense to spend thousands of dollars on yet more classes, especially since that was what I had did three years prior to become certified as a teacher in Massachusetts (and look where all that additional education led me). I enjoyed the class, joked around with the other yoga students I knew, and left.
But leaving felt wrong, to be perfectly honest. I went back feeling like I departed from a party just as it was about to get good. Gut feelings don't put money in the bank, but I couldn't ignore it.
Even though you can't ignore your gut, you can forgo any actions based on your gut. The deadline for enrollment came and went and I was still very much at home, not signed up for the teacher training. I thought, "Next year, next year," and then I thought about how, next year, there's a very high chance that I'll be trying for children, and there's nothing more frustrating than having to drop out of something because of a pregnancy. I shrugged my shoulders, realizing that the timeline for "things to do before kids" was getting unmistakably short, and decided that maybe yoga training would just be on the back burner indefinitely.
Two weeks after the deadline, we finally bought our second car. We went to Target, bought a big red bow (big for presents, but comically short for cars. Because Lexuses get the big bows and Subarus get the Target ones), and declared Merry Christmas. We decided that the car was essentially "our" Christmas present, and vowed to get relatively small things for each other come actual Christmas time ("small" being the relative term, as both my husband and I tend to go overboard on presents if we're not given parameters).
Cut to Christmas. My husband received a bunch of comedy books, as well as a Star Wars sound effect machine (which coincided nicely with what his brother and wife got him, but that's for another time). I opened my box to see a pile of textbooks and the new student questionnaire. I read the page over, not really processing what I was reading, and promptly looked up at my husband with tears in my eyes.
"Is this the teacher training?"
As my husband so puts it, he gave me the gift of homework. I had to chuckle, because a homework assignment was actually sent out two weeks prior for the first day of school -- which happens to be next Saturday, the 4th. It reminds me of college, getting a huge reading assignment to finish in days. It's going to be a lot different than college was: science was never my strongsuit and teacher training focuses heavily on anatomy. But I'm ready for it. I'm ready to read and take notes and do what it takes to become a registered yoga teacher.
Namasté.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Day 142 of 365: Religious Views
It seems fitting, given that it's Christmas, to talk about religious views. There was an incredible article (that unfortunately turned out to not be real) that said that Pope Francis declared that all religions are true. I flailed my arms like a fangirl, excited that the Pope's ideas were the same as mine. My heart sunk when I realized it was a huge phony, but my feelings that there is more than one path to salvation still remain.
To be honest, I'm so bleeding heart liberal when it comes to religion that I don't even like the term "salvation", because that implies a path away from hell -- something I do not think exists (and Pope Francis is with me on this one, too). The same way I don't think God is the type of god to take attendance at church, I don't think God would create this complex system of death and birth, survival and killing, and then say, "Yeah, but unless you do this, this, and this, you are going to suffer forever."
I believe in original sin, but not the biblical kind. I believe in a type of evolutionary original sin, where everyone in the present day has that potential for evil already built into their DNA, thanks to years and years and years of natural selection. And I don't think that abiding by a specific set of rituals will magically abate that inner evil.
Here is how I see religion: I believe in God. I believe in an entity who created all this, who is omnipotent and omniscient. I believe that there is a lot more going on than we can even hope to understand -- the same way there is more going on in the universe than we could even hope to understand. After that: ideas. I got some ideas. Ideas that I think are good ideas, but ideas I'm willing to change if the mindset calls for it.
One of those ideas is in the contradictory idea of a million "right" religions -- including agnosticism and atheism. As I see it, if the Christian God can be God and the Trinity, if Jesus can be man and Son of God and God Himself -- then why not have an infinite set of paths towards salvation (or enlightenment, or not having a shitty life, etc), all of which proclaim, "THIS IS THE RIGHT AND ONLY WAY!" and all be correct at the exact same time?
Pope Francis also talks about how people are so obsessed with dogma that they are ignoring the most important facet of Christianity: love. FINALLY, someone in charge says it. Stop worrying about what every minute detail and action the Bible says is right and wrong and start loving thy neighbor.
(Sidenote, I find it very interesting that people like to point to the "gays are bad" part of the bible, decide it is not up for discussion ... but, oh, bring up the, "Call no man rabbi, call no man priest, for you have one rabbi, one priest and that is the Lord," and suddenly shit is up for interpretation.)
And on that very opinionated note: Merry Christmas everyone!
To be honest, I'm so bleeding heart liberal when it comes to religion that I don't even like the term "salvation", because that implies a path away from hell -- something I do not think exists (and Pope Francis is with me on this one, too). The same way I don't think God is the type of god to take attendance at church, I don't think God would create this complex system of death and birth, survival and killing, and then say, "Yeah, but unless you do this, this, and this, you are going to suffer forever."
I believe in original sin, but not the biblical kind. I believe in a type of evolutionary original sin, where everyone in the present day has that potential for evil already built into their DNA, thanks to years and years and years of natural selection. And I don't think that abiding by a specific set of rituals will magically abate that inner evil.
Here is how I see religion: I believe in God. I believe in an entity who created all this, who is omnipotent and omniscient. I believe that there is a lot more going on than we can even hope to understand -- the same way there is more going on in the universe than we could even hope to understand. After that: ideas. I got some ideas. Ideas that I think are good ideas, but ideas I'm willing to change if the mindset calls for it.
One of those ideas is in the contradictory idea of a million "right" religions -- including agnosticism and atheism. As I see it, if the Christian God can be God and the Trinity, if Jesus can be man and Son of God and God Himself -- then why not have an infinite set of paths towards salvation (or enlightenment, or not having a shitty life, etc), all of which proclaim, "THIS IS THE RIGHT AND ONLY WAY!" and all be correct at the exact same time?
Pope Francis also talks about how people are so obsessed with dogma that they are ignoring the most important facet of Christianity: love. FINALLY, someone in charge says it. Stop worrying about what every minute detail and action the Bible says is right and wrong and start loving thy neighbor.
(Sidenote, I find it very interesting that people like to point to the "gays are bad" part of the bible, decide it is not up for discussion ... but, oh, bring up the, "Call no man rabbi, call no man priest, for you have one rabbi, one priest and that is the Lord," and suddenly shit is up for interpretation.)
And on that very opinionated note: Merry Christmas everyone!
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