________ ________ ________
2021-05-24 / \/ \/ / \
/ __/ /_ _/
Recently I have become hyper-focused on / _/ / /
the granularity of ritual. \_______/_\___/____/\___/____/_
/ \/ \/ / \
I do not believe in big-G-God, the idea / _/ /_ _/
that we were created on a whim by something /- / _/ /
all-knowing and supernatural, but I do \________/\________/\___/____/
believe that our lived experience is only a
small piece of a bigger mechanism. A two dimensional object living in a three
dimensional world. I belive if there are gods they came after or in parallel
with us, out of some subconscious need of our evolving species or cosmic
coincidence.
It leaves me in a situation where I am spiritual and even religious but
with no real doctrine. A double-edged sword in a way, it means when I need
guidance the duty is on me to seek it out, but it affords me the luxry of
being able to take it where I can find it. A Christian desire to uplift and
support those in need, a Shinto respect for purity and nature, a Buddhist
desire to be free from craving and attachment, a Muslim belief that a man
should be judged by their deeds alone.
It also means a lot of what I do adheres to no religion and boils down to
nothing more than superstition, either learned or imagined. That's the bit
that I've been finding really interesting.
It's interesting to me that, even people that refute the idea of gods and
spirits, that don't believe in magic, sometimes still have a favorite lucky
number or feel empowered when they find a penny lucky side up. We surround
ourselves with superstition and good luck charms whether we want to admit it
or not.
Friends and family have bits and pieces of magic laying about or strewn in
the wind, a stone on a windowsill for example, or the blessing caress of a
thumb along the nose of a loved one.
Stretching our arms up to the Sun in thanks as we step out of the shade.
Little christenings and praise in our day-to-day lives.
Last night, though, I was conscious of some of those little quirks of
worship culmunating in a larger ritual, a kind of distributed church that I
was able to participate in. Hymns were sung and bells were rung and for a
moment, by ourselves in our bedrooms, offices or living rooms, celebrating and
singing praise, I could feel the energy of the other people celebrating.
For a moment, our hearts were joined in celebrating the ascension of a
young goddess. Dotted around the globe, our coordinated quiet applause and
hushed Amens became a joined emotional cacophony.
