Religion, Realization, and Introspction

Rambling Stream of Consciousness Alert!

Having just reread the biography Elizabeth and Philip about two people whom I greatly admire. It's perhaps odd then that what struck me most this time was a note at the end. Introspection is worthless, this person in the book asserted, speaking of how the queen and her consort find the ability to carry on. In a nutshell -- avoid it.

Coincidentally, today I read an online article complaning about people who draw themselves so far inward, they've forgetten how to play well with others and don't even realize what crappy friends they've become to those in outside world. Sounds terrible, doesn't it?

Interesting perspectives. I certainly spend a wealth of time on introspection, and while I hope I've achieved some measure of self-understanding, at the same time, the value of that understanding is moot if I don't play "with the three dimensional people," to quote Phoebe Buffay.

It's exhausting. We may, might, must address multiple responsibilities in a successful day of real life, all the while aspiring, striving, and yearning for more money, security, belonging by way of investing more time, more energy, and more focus on everything from holidays to pseudosocial functions at work. Beyond work, if I want my life to be successful, I have to go, fight, and win endless battles to be better, stronger, braver, a harder worker, and more determined than the people around me to favorably compete. And when I'm home and have no people around me, I'm supposed to fix that, too, if it's not what I want, by dating, mating, and procreating. Therefore, its essential to banish the gray, clear the skin, and dress according to the edicts of What Not to Wear, maximizing my potential.

Now I'm really exhausted. No wonder when I get home every day, all I want to do is sit on the couch.

There is more to life than this.

So I was looking at my pets and thinking about how much more I know about life than they do. I know what will happen to them. I know how long they'll live, all things being equal, and what their eventual health slowdowns will be like. I know they will be afraid as they age and feel pain they don't understand, and I know that however much it hurts me, I will probably have to euthanize them eventually, when they've declined to the point of fearful desperation.

And it connected in my head that God is like that. God knows what we don't know about our own lives the same way I know more about my cats. And beyond knowing, the future IS, which is an idea I've expressed before. God sees time in both directions, the future and the past... and realizing that truth, suddenly, the free will question evaporated from my mind. It's all decided, as far as God goes. What is IS. Always was. God knows if I will repair my Catholicism, God knows if I will find lasting happiness in a relationship with a man, God knows if I will spend the rest of my life sitting on this couch feeling exhausted by myriad hurdles. What's left is for ME to find out. Trite though it may sound, the value really is the journey. It's all about me, or more to the point, it's all about each of us. We have all our blessings. They're there for the taking. We just have to recognize them.

(Most especially, God knows the resolution of the religions and their discord, and he knows the nature of man and the frustrations of humanity... I am not confident enough to espouse a particular religion as the correct one, but I'm able to assert that God, whatever or whoever he or she is, is, in fact... but I can't and shall not misrepresent my belief that the Bible is as fallible as the human people who set it to paper, though it very well may be divinely inspired... but I can and must assert that I do believe that God is, though our human words and descriptions must fall far short of the actual, and I believe in the Bible as a book of how to live well, how to live right, and how to live successfully... however much people find the means to justify mean to terrible to terrifying behavior by way of its pages... it's a life book, and it's a source of answers... it's not a "get out of jail free" card.)

This idea came through poignantly at work today, where a student with more than his fair share of bad luck got even more bad news over the weekend. How much can a kid bear, especially when his family is suffering from past tragedies still and can't lend him the support or help to deal with his own adolescent and actual trials? But the gifts are there for him, if he avails himself to them. The school knows and cares about his welfare. He has love in his life, but he will have to be strong, a lot stronger than perhaps he can be right now. Stronger than he knows he can be, or stronger than he wants to be. But he has to do the heavy lifting in his life.

I've had to do it, too. And I hated it. I still resent it when I let myself think about it.

My neighbor says what I have left to do in my journey to wholly repair myself is find my passion. There's a problem with that. I don't have one, and that's a bit unimaginative of me, so I hate admitting it. I like to write, I love to read, and I've become rabid about exercising, but none of those interests are actual passions within me. Well, perhaps reading is a passion, but I don't recognize it as one because it's like breathing or eating to me, a necessary component of my daily life for survival. Either way, my love of reading isn't a way that I can find and sustain personal bliss, let alone support myself.

However, I know now to start looking outward. Looking inside myself isn't going to result in fulfillment. The blessings are in my life, out in my life, and I have to find them before I can recognize them.