faith and belief

I am thinking about belief and faith these days. One amazing thing about working somewhere like the post office is the time available to think. True, it isn't actual thinking, its more a type of wandering softcore musing, but the quantity, if lack of intensity has its charms.
Anyway, I'm thinking of belief. I feel like I've been handed a really big win with numero uno supremo bf coming back into my life. So thats good. But lately I've felt deeply the actual real loss of the two big men of my high school days. Gregg and Paul.
It really took the door closing on a continuing friendship with Paul for me to understand that the same thing had occurred with Gregg. The horrible and extremely sad thing for me is that I totally get that it is nothing personal about me. At least nothing bad. It is just that as a woman, I am incompatible with their lives as married men. This realization hit me so hard I immediately did what I do best. I whined. Loudly and much to another mutual friend, that I almost never see. Surprisingly, it made me feel much better. So I did it again this time to my super special go to guy, Bob.
Bob was my first love interest after my marriage broke up. We had our fling and have remained friends. At first this was beneficial to me because Bob is a PhD Psychologist. I felt so crazy. It was good to have a recognized authority to lean on. Now I feel like I am just lucky to have a good friend who loves me and supports me. For now, anyway, until he remarries. Then I will likely lose him too.
Then to whom shall I whine? Anyway...

Asking for a bit of sympathy to work out my sense of profound loss from el bf magnifico, I set out to figure out why I felt like someone died. Of course any self examination of lose promotes an equal examination of belief. I am still super sad and confused as to why we women forbid our men to stay friends with girls after those men commit, but I did it too. Or tried to. Liam has way too much sense to let me dictate policy. I'm pleased to say that now, years later, I'm glad he has a friend in the girl that initially made me so insecure. But it took me a long time to get here.

So belief. I believe in god. Sort of. A god like something anyway. I'm not proud of the fact. I used to pray (to who?) that oblivion was what awaited good girls like me. So that sort of contradicts belief in god period, but as someone smarter than me said, "Its a fool that looks for logic in the chambers of the human heart." Or something better but similar.

I'm a lazy buddhist. I think those guys have it right. Sort of. Church of Jamie right. Which is to say that the way I think of buddhism and actual practice of buddhism are very different. Some of the teachings have really gone to my heart. As an example, the essential nature of a good death, free of suffering (as much as possible) and especially free of attachment. The fact that this has become an actual belief for me astounds me. I really think that it is essential. That is the part that freaks me out. When did this thought become true for me? How can it even be true? It fits my personal criteria as a belief. I have noticed that people don't bother to believe in mystical properties like gravity or time. Those things are now so obvious to so many that they are taken for granted and the very idea that someone could apply belief or faith to them is absurd.

But my concept of approaching death has taken on this mystical, "I'm right" absolutism. I am confident when I think of dying, maybe of change at all, that the right way to do it is calmly with those you love and yearn for far from your sight and hearing. I'm glad that I mentioned this to Liam (did you know that Liam is the sexy nom de plume of my super dooper bf? He selected it because it is preposterious and extravagent. Just one more reason I love him.) He said that if I died first, he'd talk me thru it. I know he meant it because we were on our way to a strip club, so why would he lie? Oh the adventures we have!

So the thing that really sticks to me right now as I type distracted by the child that sits next to me and wants my attention is that when it comes to belief, I tend to cling (buddhism alert) to things that help me approach and understand loss of control and loss period. Maybe its the ego death thing that the Zen folk are always going on about. I have much more to say about this, but I think I am good for now. I will get back to this later, for now I have other things to do.

Economics and society

First of all, I don't know much about economics. But I have observed a few things about society. One reason I think I don't line up with most people is that I am not a big time consumer.

I don't lay awake at nights dreaming about the perfect anything. If I were inclined to, it would assuredly not be a house, car or anything like that. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be something that could be purchased. When I play make believe about how I'd spend millions of dollars, it usually involves having enough money to not need to spend it. I'd buy initially so I'd have stuff to potter around with. I'd build myself a nice plain non tech greenhouse. I'd have a good woodshop. I'd get some composting stuff and equipment to make rock fences and walls.

Even today, with the little money I have all I want is to live simply. I don't dream about nice new cars or the latest silly handbag. I want to spend money learning good stuff, not collecting it.

Sure, in my wildest dreams, I spend all the money in the world. I travel. I get bodywork. I set up imaginary charities and spread the love.

I think the worst part about not wanting to keep up with the Joneses is that eventually all we have to talk about is tv. I guess that's not so bad. Thank goodness for the Simpsons.

Timpanogos

Today was Timp Caves. Of course it kicked my butt. I'm not much of an incline hiker. Which makes me not much of a hiker. I loved the hike, I loved the caves, but I did not love the loud yuppie types with whom we went on the tour.

I am so over being tolerant of other people's ill behaved children. I think I used to enjoy being around them out of the awkward guilt that my children were the same. They weren't. They might have been bad, but I never had the feeling of entitlement yuppie parents seem to have. I never expected other people to be happy that my kids were being loud or running all over. I never ignored my kids until they were annoying other people.

I think I may be evolving into some type of misanthrope. This makes me sad. I love people. I look forward to talking to them and hearing their stories. Or, rather, I used to. Now I just want to set them on fire or push them down and stomp on their vapid faces.

I think part of my venom comes from the fact that I used to like people. Like the child attacked by the family dog grown up, I'm wary and unhappy in most of my dealings with them.

So, that at least, was fun. Because it reminded me of why Ed Abbey went into the desert. He did it to get paid, but also because people where a poison. The are a growth upon the land, a cancer. He did some of his best writing because he knew this. I don't have the incentive to join up with the rangers, so eventually I'll just make myself happy out in the nowheres with Liam. After that, a monastic life beckons. I thought up until now, I'd live in community. Now I'm thinking retreat or hermit. As much as I can.

But the caves were beautiful. And I made it all the way. My legs are becoming so sexy. Next time, I'll ask people to please just be quiet. Then I won't feel so ripped off at seeing something so breathtaking ruined by loud american tourists.

The Republic

I've started listening to Plato's Republic. While I admire Socrates, the thing that astounds me most is that they didn't kill him sooner.

I have read a brief biography and studied his teachings via other authors. Mostly in my introductory and history of philosophy studies. While the man was no doubt brilliant, he strikes me as annoying as hell.

I can only imagine the charisma necessary to gain the goodwill of the Roman upper class. Those men that Plato writes about seem to really adore good Ol' Stinky. None of them seem to really want to bash his head in when he points out that what they think is true only if it is also untrue to someone else. The nice thing so far is that he foreshadows the teachings of Christ. I like that. Christ has always struck me as a smart man, not a divine one.

I'm sure I would have hated Mr. Smellypants. On the surface his musings and dialogs smack of zen koan nonsense. I would have been one of the working class folk without time for such ridiculousness. There would be work to be done and I would counter with, "Help me carry this you feckless windbag. Your arms aren't painted on, are they?" and "It won't heal if you pick it." No doubt these statements are the antidote to puzzling mystic teachings. Socrates would probably laugh at me and my elementary wisdom. That's just fine, as long as he's downwind.

Actually I've decided that to be a proper philosopher (even if you won't identify yourself as one,) you've got to be stinky. Just like composers have to have wild hair. Its a keeping up appearances thing. No hard feelings Socrates.