BELIEF

If you read my blog regularly, you know I will at times diverge from the main topic of writing to delve into some of the more esoteric aspects of my personality. I generally try to stay away from controversial topics such as sex, politics and religion. Well, today I will be gently treading on matters of belief and on what the word "belief" entails.

First, a little background on my experience with religion. While I was young Mother made sure that I and my siblings attended Sunday-School at the local Pentecostal church. I do not remember much about the lessons themselves, only that afterward I had to sit through the boring (to a young child) sermons, often using the time to nap. Thankfully, as I got older the trips to church petered out and finally ended. I do remember evening get-togethers with other churchgoers where cookies could be pilfered and a recital where a six-year me got up in front of the congregation and proudly stated the long rehearsed phrase; "Children should be seen and not heard. So I won't say a single word!" This is also the church where my Mother married my Step-Father. The pastor during rehearsal asked, "if someone here objects to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace." At which point my siblings and myself stood and turning to the guests with huge grins, exclaimed "WE DO!" which led to thunderous laughter.

My child mind was neither inclined nor curious enough to question anything I was told, if a grownup told me such-and-such was truth - it was. Although, headstrong and bold as I was, truth or not, if my inclinations went against what I was told, I went with my gut and did it anyway. I was too involved in my own world of imagination. A world where I was in full control and everything was possible. A world with no rules but my own.

I was still very young when I experienced events which tore my world of imagination, and my family, apart. Suddenly, I realized that I was not in control of my world. Shame, hurt, distrust and fear distorted how I saw people and how I thought they saw me. I stopped believing the truths I was being told. I started questioning, if only internally, everything I once believed. I was an innocent child suddenly turned cynical and hostile toward anyone who could not provide answers or rectify my shattered vision of reality. Anger and retribution became my new driving force.

I had a friend who was a Jehovah's witness. Whenever I would spend a weekend at his house it was expected that either I would go home on Sunday morning or go to their version of services. Not wanting to go home and be bored, I went with them. I was now in my early teens and a building powder-keg waiting to explode. Maybe it was all the talk of eternal life, peace and happiness and never-ending joy, but I actually started to become interested in knowing about this mythical God everyone talked about. I started reading the bible. I started actually getting answers that made some kind of sense. I studied furiously. To this day, I honestly think that if I had not at this time let go, because of what I was learning, of the hurt and anger that was welling-up inside I would have done something terrible and regrettable.

Of course, when I started asking real questions.. the tough questions, when I noticed incongruousness between what I was being told and what I rationally inferred from the lessons I was being taught, I suddenly did not feel as welcome among the witnesses as I once had. By the time I graduated from high-school I had made a firm commitment to myself that if I was to get to know about spirituality it would be on my own terms.

My great fascination with Science-Fiction and Fantasy novels laid a foundation for questing after knowledge. In college I was approached by a fellow who gave me a copy of the Koran. After skimming through the texts I quickly realized there were no answers to be found there. I politely returned the tomb and excused myself from his company.

Christianity, Islam and Judaism were too closely linked and all too strict. I turned to the pagan systems and consumed them all with ferocity. Wicca, Buddhism, the Tao-Te-Ching, Agnosticism, witchcraft and transcendentalism; they all had flavor but no substance. In desperation I looked for even stranger sources of knowledge: Blavatsky, Aleister Crowley, Edgar Cayce, secret societies and myths that predated modern society. Still, nothing but more questions and more than a little disgust. I even read the Satanic Bible, which, once you understand it is actually quite reasonable and nothing at all to do with skinning cats and sacrificing babies in black mass.

It was not until October of 2008 when finally everything I learned from every source crystallized in me and became real. The seed of it was from a novel I had read at least five times. In it a man who was raised by aliens, thus having an alien mind, learned what it meant to be human. He set out to teach man the magnificent truths which were as basic to him as drinking a glass of water; and we killed him for it. With his dying breath he looked upon a grasshopper and said, "Thou art god." It was when I read those words again for the sixth time on October 26th, 2008 that I had my epiphany. I renounced all other faiths and was reborn as an Autotheist.

TO BE CONTINUED ON MONDAY.

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50 WORDS

HENRY'S FAVORITE

Henry's ball was his favourite toy. Bright colours, bouncy and smelled like bubble gum. Suzy Washbourne borrowed it during recess. She kicked it into the street where it was run over by a pickup. Henry was very sad. Suzy kissed him on the cheek and henry was never sad again.

YOU NEVER GET A SECOND CHANCE...

Sweat dripped from the captain's chin. His ship was confronted with that of an unknown species. New protocol dictated a defence only approach to first contact. Humanity had only encountered one other space-faring race since venturing to the stars. The guilt of genocide was still fresh on his conscience.

FOOLS RUSH IN

Roland was first to explore the cave opened by an earthquake. Ignoring safety procedure, he went in alone. The unsteady structure soon enough had him pinned against a humid, sludge smeared wall. He screamed in pain and terror as the slime-mold enveloped, then digested him from the outside in.

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YOU SHOULD NEVER COMPLAIN

Each day an estimated sixteen-thousand children die of malnutrition. Four-thousand-five-hundred die each day from drinking unclean water. Eighty-Five percent of all workers bring home less than six dollars a day. Many feed and clothe their families on less than two.

If you live in a developed country and work for minimum wage, or are on welfare, you are still in the top ten percent of the richest people in the world. You waste enough energy, clean water and food each day to sustain two families in a developing country.

Last year, I almost made it the whole month of March with a daily allowance of $3. My rent and bills were not included as they cost me nearly $20 a day. The $3 was for everything else; food, transportation and entertainment.

For one week sometime soon I will shut off the power in my apartment and turn off the water taps. I will live out of a bag with only the following items.

1 Change of clothes
1 Work uniform
1 Clothes hanger
1 Disposable razor
1 Toothbrush
1 Terry-cloth towel
1 Kitchen knife
1 Plastic bowl
1 Coffee mug
1 Empty 2L water bottle
1 Book
1 Notebook
1 Pencil
$7.00

I will eat only what I can buy with $7.00, beg or barter for. I will drink, cook and wash only with the water I bring home in my 2L bottle. Since I can't build a fire or an out-house in my apartment I will be using the microwave oven and toilet. My goal is to be industrious enough to not only live the week on $7.00 and the items in my bag, but to live well. I will not use electricity other than the microwave oven and will not use water that I don't bring home other than flushing the toilet. I will not use any object in the apartment other than what is in my bag. (I have a cat, she is not included in the experiment. She will get good food, clean water and plenty of snuggles each day.) Since I can't use my bed I will be sleeping on an "improvised" one, my love-seat cushion on the floor.

I will walk everywhere I need to go without using taxis or public transportation. I will be keeping a journal that I'll copy over to my blog when the experiment is over because, for that week, I will be completely unplugged and offline.

I have a few goals for the week as well:

1. Make my own entertainment. An improvised musical instrument made from refuse.
2. Buy one luxury item; A box of salt, toilet paper or bar of soap.
3. Let nobody suspect the experiment is happening.
4. To document the extravagant waste I see.
5. To make and sell a piece of folk-art made from refuse.
6. To use everything, producing virtually no waste.
7. To end the experiment with at least a dollar left.

When I began my frugal blog last year I had an idea in my mind. To that end I am continuing to research and experiment. Please be patient with me as this project has been underway for nearly four years now and is ongoing.

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BACK ON TOPIC

Please excuse my brief foray into off-topic posts in the last few weeks. I became overly concerned with the ups-and-downs of my private life. This is, after all, a blog about writing.

Coming up are two contests I will be participating; The Recorder and Times Short Story Contest and The Writer's Union of Canada Postcard Competition.

My Story for the R&T will be as close to 1,500 words as possible in a style I'm not entirely familiar with, but am excited to try. I can't give any details just in case one of the judges may be reading this.

I'm not particularly fond of entering contests that require a fee, but Melanie Robertson-King passed along information about the WUoC competition and I don't think I can pass up this opportunity. I specialize in flash fiction and 250 words is exactly the length of our monthly writing assignments from Writers Ink, my writing club. Unfortunately, as Melanie pointed out, my last piece titled "Putting Your Best Foot Forward" is ineligible due to being posted on Facebook. I am guilty of quite often posting something I am proud of for the whole world to see, without considering it's potential monetary value.

I do need a topic for the postcard competition. I have not, as yet, come up with a suitable one. Any suggestions?

I have set some writing goals for myself this year:

1. To enter the above mentioned contests.
2. To publish at least three short stories in a literary magazine.
3. Once published, to gain membership in the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America.
4. To write an anthology of eighteen short stories set in a fictional universe to be titled "Realm 216: Ripples in Time"
5. To finish a secret project I have been toying with for a long while.

I got the ball rolling last year by collecting a few more rejection letters, placing in the Storefront Writing Competition and being accepted for publication by McGraw-Hill Ryerson. I am trying to keep that momentum going. I started this blog back in 2009. It's hard to believe it has been two-and-a-half years since I began to write earnestly. I would really like to thank the ladies and gentlemen of Writers Ink who have accepted me, my eccentricities, and pushed me further along than I ever would have managed on my own. Thank you!

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BEING RESOLUTE

Happy New Year. It's January 1, 2012. Have you broken your New Year's resolutions yet?

Mine were to focus on eliminating some bad habits, developing new healthy ones, writing more and elevating my station in life. I had fallen off the wagon and smoked a few packs of cigarettes in the last two-and-a-half weeks. I have no desire to return to being a smoker, so as of today I have put a stop to that once again.

I look around my apartment as I sit here. Mismatched furniture, derelict computers, books and odds-and-ends are clutter from my old life. As of today, these things no longer represent who I am and must go. In my last blog posting I mentioned that I am working-class poor. Despite what you may wish for, we live in a class-based society.

When I say class-based, I mean three things; income, wealth and social graces. Income generally determines your tax-bracket. Since what I currently earn could be considered the poverty line, I am lower-class (or working-class). Someone earning Two-Hundred Thousand a year or more, could be considered in the upper-class. However, income is not the only factor. That same person could also be several million dollars in debt (for whatever reason.) In which case, earnings do not define wealth. Someone else making Twenty-Thousand dollars a year, but has no debt, is wealthier.

The last aspect of Social-Class is the social part. Culture, education and CLASS. As someone who is poor, my associates also tend to be lower income. It is unfortunate, and perhaps even a little bigoted, to say that the manners of the young to middle aged in my income-tax bracket tend to be less than exemplary. I too am guilty. I have always been accused of being anti-social, well, that is only because I generally choose not to associate with drug users, liars, thieves, and stupid loud-mouthed porcine mannered clods.

I know I will never be an aristocrat, but I long for the culture of good manners, fine foods, summer vacations and leisure. This year is dedicated to taking the first steps to achieving that longing.

Happy New Year

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WELCOME THE NEW

Christmas is over again for another year. New Year's Eve is soon upon us. Traditionally it is a celebration of the passing of the old into the new.

There are certain things of old I am more than ready to let pass away and new possibilities to look forward to. Socially and economically I am considered lower class poor. Until now, I have never really considered my station in life or how miserable it has made me. I am ready to say goodbye to that poor wretch and embrace creating a more desirable lifestyle.

The changes I have resolved to make in myself may offend some of those close to me. Unfortunately, I can no longer afford to live under the thumb of what others may think. I have to reach out and take what I want from life. I do not want to be on my deathbed looking back on my years and regretting that did not have the courage to live them the way I wanted.

It is such a tragedy that most live in such a way as to create an appearance of what others expect of them without ever being true to their own desires. Appearances are worth absolutely nothing in the end; nothing at all.

I do not want to be an employee any longer. I cannot stand being subjugated by the rule of employers and working for their benefit. I want to be a professional writer and make a comfortable living at it. I have expensive tastes but have never been able to indulge them. I want to work as little as possible while earning as much as I can so I can really begin to appreciate every single moment of the rest of my life.

Phew, I really unloaded a bit of baggage there. 2012, I wish, will be the year I turn things around and become the person I want to be. I am ready to welcome the new.

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HAPPY HOLIDAYS

Regardless of the source, the message - Peace on Earth. Good will towards men. - is poignant, not just during this holiday season, but at all times throughout the year.

Many traditions mark the winter solstice as a turning point, marking midwinter, when days start becoming longer and nature begins the process of renewing life. For much of recorded history this has been celebrated by communities gathering together in feasts and festivals creating traditions and lore, the origins of many being lost to time, that are part of the core social rules that allow us to co-habitate this planet.

Despite what culture you were born into, what beliefs you hold sacred, the DNA in your cells or the language you speak; you are of only one race, human. We are a species with few natural defense to protect ourselves. Compared to other animals our bodies are weak. We do not have sharp claws or teeth, protective fur against the elements or the quickness to escape predators. It is our creativity and ability to work together towards common goals that has allowed us to endure, prosper and to dominate all other forms of life.

When we overcame the elements, predators and starvation, we turned our minds from simple survival to enriching ourselves. We have created great masterpieces of art, unlocked secrets of the universe and have reached out into the heavens in search of others like ourselves to answer the question: Are we alone, unique in the vast cosmos? We have done this only through thought and co-operation. However, we have encountered a stumbling block.

We have had duel roles in our distant past, of both predator and prey. Instinct tells us to watch out for hunters and in turn, to kill. We no longer live in fear of being eaten, and don’t have to stalk our food, thanks to grocery stores. These instincts still prevail, so we turn to the only dangerous and weak animals left, each other.

It is our nature to overcome hardship. We thrive and grow as a species through competition. When we no longer had to compete against nature, we turned on ourselves. We created with our minds abstracts of thought that became as real to us as food, fire and water. We argue over these intangible things, hate each other for them and even kill for these things that exist only in our minds. These abstracts have elevated our competition with each other from healthy, to detrimental to the whole human race.

The phrase, written by Shakespear opening Richard III, “Now is the winter of our discontent,” takes on new meaning in this world we live in. It means, the time of unhappiness is past. It is time to let go of old fears, hatreds and rivalries over things that have no real meaning. We are nearing the solstice of our time, as a race. Now is the time to celebrate our renewal.

It begins with you. Consider, during this time of gathering and merriment, how you are going to bring about peace on Earth, good will towards men. If we can let go of the meaningless pain we bring to each other and embrace co-operation, there is no limit to what joys we can share.

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