Fresh from signing-on (which was depressingly breif. Why did I bother to print evidence of my job search and to fill in my diary, when the 'adviser' just glanced, sighned, and advised that we were done for today?) I'll now attempt to tackle the biggie.
Spirituality.
*deep breath*
For many years I have been - as the accurate option on a dating site profile suggested - 'spiritual but not religious'.
Isn't that just a fabulous way of describing it?? There are so many people who believe in the untangible, the concept of a higher power, yet are not comfortable with organised religion. When, at whatever judgement we believe in comes, we can only answer for ourselves. When we pray, converse with God, chant, worship, we may pray for someone or others, but not through them...
''Dear God, please tell Bob to tell Jim to tell you...''
Doesn't have the same ring to it, does it? No, we pray from our own hearts.
So it is that (I feel) we search for our own path to God.
We may have companions for the journey. A bus driver. The oddball who smells of hamsters and sits next to you talking about his chickens. We may have a bus driver. But no advocate.
That own path to God is what I am searching for, that spiritual connection that has at times felt as distant as a memory.
Yet it is in memories that inspiration can lurk, such as the memory that comes to mind. In smaller font for ease of skipping over...
Imagine, if you will, January in Kolkata. I'm a bit slimmer and a lot more tanned.
In the middle of the night I turned over, gurning against the crippling stomach cramps that I was experiencing. I bit my lip, but somehow my silent twisting woke my roommate (whom I'd met just the day before, so wasn't aware that she was a Christian. Without speaking, she surveyed the situation and reached for my hand, gripping it, she began to pray for me. As the cramps eased, so did my sleeplessness and I woke in the morning refreshed.
We relaxed with a joint rolled by my friend, T, and she told me about how she came to rediscover her faith in the nick of time before depression tipped her over the edge. She talked about how it guided her in life and gave her the strength to make decisions and be who she is.
We both cried.
Then we dried our eyes and set out on the white knuckle ride to Howrah bride. Having jumped on a moving bus in blind faith (excuse the pun!) that it was going the right way, we settled into our seats to watch the streets pass, sun bursting through the window. I felt thankful for my companion, that I was present to experience the wonderful contrasts of India, that a handsome Croatian man had given me antibiotics. And suddenly there was peace. Everything felt right (except for our sore bottoms!). I felt that I was exactly where I am meant to be. I felt God was with me.
And that, dear readers, is powerful.
That is what spirituality means to me.
I was 'following my bliss'.... Joseph Campbell is worth a read (wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Campbell#Joseph_Campbell_Foundation) although I freely admit that I first came across this in the film 'The namesake', adapted from Jhumpa Lahiri's book of the same name. Again very well worth a read.
Sorry... how is this relating to fasting?
Well, for many faiths (because a lot more faiths promote fasting than is initially thought) that fasting serves as emulation, commemoration, and to focus the mind on a higher purpose *bingo!!*.
It is also a reminder that we are lucky to be able to choose to give up food for the day. Some people in this world don't have that choice to make... if you can, and if you want, Pakistan needs our help now more than ever :..(
It's worth noting that my peaceful and contempalative state has just been disturbed by dropping my laptop and being chased across the room by the biggest spider I've seen outside of a petshop. :S
So I will have to end there for now and return to make this make more sense, and possibly add some pictures.
Monster arachnic safely rehomed, I'm off to have a coffee and feel smug that I'm not revenous yet.
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