My search for spiritual connectedness has continued and lately I have found peace more often by looking towards the divine. I still haven’t really found a church, but what I have found is a committee. Since I have been a practicing/non-practicing Buddhist for the past five years, a return to Jesus as my only savior just felt strange to me. Like I was cheating on the Buddha. Plus, I don’t really know Jesus that well, and I wasn’t sure I could rely solely on one deity for all my needs. I mean, when you’re a Buddhist you get hundreds of Buddhas to choose from. Buddhas that fit your every need and mood. I know that saints in the Catholic religion often fit that bill, but I’m not so familiar with Saints and I need immediate spiritual counsel. I don’t have time to study up.
So what I came up with is a committee. A committee that I can take my worries, my gratitude, my anger, my fear, and my love too. A committee of wise ones that I trust and know. Its actually 2 deities I'm familiar with and one mama I love. I had to throw her in for the humanness, because goodness knows I am so very, very, human. The committee is nestled sweetly in my heart; Buddha, Jesus, and Mother Mary, sitting around a table where I lay my issues. I like to imagine them discussing the things I lay on the table and I often image myself kneeling in front of their small round, table, my head bowed in surrender as I finally let go of whatever I’ve been holding onto.
I’ve been keeping a journal in which I write to The Committee. I write things I am grateful for. I write prayers for people who are struggling, or with whom I am struggling. I write down the things I want to hand over to the committee, like being a good mother, acupuncture school, where I want to send my boy to school next year, what the hell I’m going to do with my life, and my constant struggle with smoking. It's short and sweet with no desire to be poetic. It is my bare bones shit and I lay it out for them to sort out.
For me, laying it on the table is having faith. Something that I am trying to remember. Laying it on the table means trying to leave it there until an answer becomes apparent, until peace has been found. That is very hard for me. For four years I have been a Queenpin. A stubborn, in control, mama. Holding it together, and leaving claws marks on my climb to independence and stability. But, Mamas (and Papa), I’m tired, and I know there is another way to live. There is a way to live without worry, and fear, and anxiety, but to get it I’ve got to have faith. I’ve got to give control over to someone else, even though I know that the wisdom of those someone else-es is all in me. Maybe it's my lack of self-confidence that makes me have to put other's faces on my own divine nature, but whatever it is, this seems to be working.
|We've all got baggage. We just wear it differently.|
Sometimes I invite guests to the committee, Mary Magdeline, is one guests, as is Mother Teresa. I've also had Ghandi, and Walt Whitman sit in too, because what I need is wisdom, and what I'm searching for is peace. Those are folks that I've learned a little from, so I ask them to sit and lay it on me. I've wondered if inviting Richard Simmons to be a guest for the day would motivate me to exercise, but then I worry he would offend the Buddha who is not known for his physique.
Some days I lay a Santa Claus size of my bag on the table, issues spilling over onto the floor. Other days its just a few things that lay exposed for us to stare at and pray over. Whatever sized mess it is, I'm starting to feel lighter in my burdens, and I know it because The Committee is taking over for me. They are sorting through my mess, lightning my load, and helping me realize that for this Queenpin, to truly be in control she's gonna have to hand over the reigns.