Just Off Center

Several months ago when my mother had come to visit me for a few days the topic of religion was brought up. I was raised Roman Catholic, as was most of my extended family, as was most of my home state. She's very worried about me and my apparent fall from grace. She prays for me nightly and hopes that I'll learn the power of prayer and the glory of God's path. Now I have no intentions of returning to my birth faith because my mother would sleep better, but I do appreciate her concern. I tried to explain to her my thoughts on the world. She understood, but then quickly dismissed me as just trying to run away from God's love. Phrases like that make my blood boil. It's like that bumper sticker "Christians aren't perfect, just forgiven." Hey, you arrogant prick, my rifle isn't pointed at you, just loaded so keep your cutesy condemnations to yourself.

So Nina and I were watching the CSI marathon last night on The Spike Channel. One episode that caught my attention particularly was set in a Buddhist temple where four homicide's had occurred. In one scene, one of the monks is interrogated about having pornography in his room. The monk explains that the pictures of naked women are no different than pictures of waterfalls to him and that, to those seeking enlightenment, the pleasures of the flesh are meaningless and only serve to divert them from "the path".

I found this statement particularly unnerving. I just don't see what path he could be walking that would be worth the abandonment of the pleasures of the flesh. I, for one, am quite fond of the carnal pleasures. A cigarette, a shot of vodka, my wife's touch, and the "X" roller coaster at Six Flags Magic Mountain have given me some of the most "alive" moments of my life. The phrase "all things in moderation" comes to mind. The point of it is taking in as many experiences as we can in the short time we're chilling here on this rock. And when I say "all things" I include things such as discipline, pain, grief, and stress too, so no thinking that I'm some new age idiot promoting a life spent in the brainless pursuit of "nirvanic bliss".

But it seems to me that "all things in moderation" should well define the life most of us lead. Some work, some play. Some love, some indifference. Some good, some bad. And I don't see how leading a life that is grossly bent toward one side can be anything but lacking the other. Most people know a guy or girl who lives in a constant state of either perfect happiness or perfect misery. And they may see themselves as the owners of a unique perspective, but wouldn't they be better served by a dose of the yang?

I used to live my life as a devout Roman Catholic with hope and faith, thinking that these things might grant me admission to the heavenly hereafter. In fact I was mere weeks away from attending a monastery to become a Catholic Priest at one point. That never did pan out. I just couldn't deal with the whole celibacy thing. But as I got older I couldn't stop wondering about certain things. I spent my first couple years in college raging against God and the teachings of my youth, sure. But that was less of an evolution, and more just lashing out at authority.

It's been a decade since then and I'd like to think that I have come to a clearer place faith-wise. I personally have no religious faith of any kind anymore, and I have never felt happier or more at peace with the world. These days I see awareness as the greatest aspect of our existence. I'm reminded of a hymn from church entitled "Faith, Hope and Love" with lyrics that repeat the title followed by "The greatest of these is love". But how great could any of them be without the ability to perceive them, to even be aware of them? I guess I feel that this body of mine is little more than a borrowed pile of elements, forged from the same dust as the Sun and sky. Why, if my intentions are good, should I deny myself the experiences of flesh that I am granted?

I have moments of pain and moments of pleasure like everyone else. But it's when I stop to realize and acknowledge them as they occur that I feel most "aware" of my own existence. I consider these moments to be those when I feel truly alive. And too often I see those around me so preoccupied with the stresses of career and other things that I feel sorry for them. Before I go on, I should say that I acknowledge that stress is just another one of these physical sensations that should be felt openly as it will be gone as assuredly as morning wood after I die. Stress can be as exhilerating as chasing an unattainable girl or reading a great novel.

But I'm talking about those people around all of us who have allowed themselves to be overrun by these stresses, stress or drama addicts of some kind. My boss's boss in particular seems wrought with the anguishes of day to day living. He has let his personal life fall nearly to ruin while putting infinitely more effort in the execution of some work-related projects. He is almost completely joyless. I've seen him out of work and he's no different. Everything is an "opportunity for accomplishment" but nothing is an experience, and he's allowed contentment to replace joy. And these people are tragic to me, not because he's dedicated, or because he's career oriented. But more because he's (at least temporarily) forgotten that, whatever the end result is, there is an end in sight. He's going to drop dead someday, and whether that's truly the end of him or he turns into an angel or is greeted at the gates by God, Allah, or Sammy the Earthtender, he has lost all sight of the pure joys of being alive.

Enough of my preaching. When I'm fifty I may well see this pattern of thought to be trite and naive. What I doubt will change is my desire to "figure it out". The search what's real and true has given me as many exciting and happy moments as anything else, so I doubt I'll abandon the hunt anytime soon.