Kale's blog

Will-o'-the-wisp, where's that wrinkle in time?

Month: September, 2011

On the Matter of Going to Church

This morning, someone wished me a blessed Sunday and told me to “go to church so that my sins may decrease”. But I can never heed that advice for I have stopped believing in the church I was baptized into before I could even the see the world around me.

I know I’m not alone. Far too many of us were baptized before we could even speak our first word that our mothers would later put in our book. We were baptized not in the way of the Bible but in the way of the Church. For a ceremony so sacred, it is ironic that it is not performed in the manner that the Book describes it to be.

Some time ago, I was shocked when I first heard of such things as the “Certificate of Debaptism“. I could never understand why people would want to have such things. I wasn’t born to a religious house but I was born to one with a religion. I thought it was blasphemous and devoid of conscientiousness.

But now I understand. We were baptized before we even had the chance to decide thereby taking away our right to freedom of religion. We were baptized without our heartfelt acceptance of God thereby taking away the essence of the ceremony. We were baptized before we could even say “No” thereby taking away our free will.

Last night, my mother asked me to wake sleep early so that I may wake up early today so that she could go to church. She didn’t go so I asked her why and she answered me, “Maybe the Devil held me and whispered to me, ‘Don’t go.'” She said she was to make up for it by praying the rosary. If she won’t be able to, the Devil was still holding on to her.

I wanted to think that it wasn’t the Devil who was holding on to her but an angel who wanted to keep her out of the Church. If she wasn’t able to pray the rosary, it would’ve been an angel still holding on to her keeping her from praying in front of statues and carvings.

These statues and carvings are but one reason why I no longer believe in the Church. Ironically enough, it was the Book which made me stop believing. It is ironic for the Book is supposed to be the basis of the existence of the Church. But it is in the Book where I learned that things are not to be the way that the Church have made them become.

Now, if I did go to church, would that have decreased my sins? Perhaps. Perhaps it would have decreased my sins to the Church. But it ends there. It wouldn’t have decreased my sins to the One who matters. It wouldn’t have in any way whatsoever.

It is not the Church that I want to follow.

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My Saving Grace

“I’m only human and that’s my saving grace.” Words from a song from One Tree Hill. But the idea does not work for me as I don’t consider my humanity to be my saving grace for I have come to believe that my humanity is my weakness. It is this trait of being human that makes me dual in nature. It is this duality that makes me capable of both good and evil, of light and of shade, of the yin and the yang. Which makes the desire to be an agent of the light become a never-ending battle with the other part of me that keeps pulling me to the dark. It is a part of me which cannot be denied.

The same thing applies for people who live with the dark. The dominance of the darkness in their hearts does not erase the fact that the light lives on in them. However much a person is shrouded in darkness, the light continues to burn in them and the decision to ignore this light could have only come from themselves.

This chance to decide is the only saving grace of being human. The power of free will, the chance to choose, the capability to decide. For without it, we become merely slaves of the tides. We go with the motions and we can’t do anything about it because we are on a leash. The puppetmaster exists and he alone controls everything. Of course, if we are but mindless dummies, we would never mind our condition, however miserable it might be.

One may believe in destiny. Some so fervently believe that they forget everything else and think that everything has been predestined, decided, fixed and that the course of their lives is something which is entirely out of their control. Something they don’t have a hold on. Something which they can only go with and not alter. This is again another reason why being human can never be my saving grace. Humans are prone to lethargy. A lethargy that makes a lot of people fail at everything and not achieve anything at all believing that it has been decided that things are to be so for them.

If anything, my acknowledgement of being an imperfect creature is my saving grace. I know that I am imperfect but I also know that I can be better. Perfection is but an illusion created by the worldliness of the way humans have lived for so long a time. Being better everyday is enough. Pursuing perfection is but a goose chase in this life. A chase that makes people who go for it become frustrated, depressed, insecure. They think that their ideals, however unseemly they may seem, are the hallmarks of being. On the occasion that they realize that they can never be their ideals, they break down and lose everything.

Acknowledging the fact that one is an imperfect creature which can be improved but never perfected keeps one within the bounds of reality. This keeps one from getting outlandish. This keeps one’s eyes on the right prize. This life is not where we can be perfect ones. We can be. Just not now. It is not yet time for such things to happen.

I am imperfect and that is my saving grace.

Looking at Fear

Maybe I’m afraid. Afraid of a lot of different things. Maybe the idea of moving forward scares me that I subconsciously keep myself rooted to where I am. Maybe it’s that uncertainty of the future that makes me stay.

I used to say that being afraid and being scared are two entirely different things. I understood it back then. I had a really good argument back then. It made a lot of sense back then. Now, I don’t remember. I don’t remember how I understood it. I don’t remember my argument. I don’t remember the sense.

Somehow, they have come together, have become one. But, of course, when things that used to be different ideas become one, it suggests a mind that is losing creativity. A mind that used to be able to see different things in one. A mind that used to be able to see one thing as if from a kaleidoscope of various perspectives. A mind capable of making seen that which is unseen.

But perhaps it isn’t so. Perhaps them becoming one idea is a good thing. Perhaps it means that I am finally able to acknowledge that both the feeling of being afraid and of being scared have a single, unanimous object: fear.

Acknowledging the existence of fear gives one the power to overcome it, to defeat it, to control it. When one denies it, pretends that it doesn’t exist, tells oneself that it is but an evanescent thought, everything only turns to worse as all of one’s faculties will be spent on the denial instead of the more productive action of mastering it.

Fear, left unacknowledged, slowly creeps into one’s being until one is consumed by it and becomes but a slave. A slave who doesn’t have the power to become whatever one must be because of the walls, chains, and cuffs that fear has imprisoned the slave with. A slave who can only cry for help but will find the effort futile because no one else is around to listen. A slave who can only wait for his ruin.

So, the only way around this is to confront fear right in its core. To wage war against it and conquer it. To strike at its heart and subdue it. To tear it down and vanquish it.

Now, one question remains: how does one find the centre?