Untitled Perfection

It seems that "God" is often the hot topic where I work.  In this small town, religion rules.  B and I were pillowtalking about gnosticism, atheism, brights and other -isms last night.  I told him how I was just tired of labels. 

I am.  Would you judge me a better person if I told you I was an "environmentalist", a "vegan", a "liberal"?  I do make assumptions about someone's character when I hear their label, and I have put my own labels out so that people will make assumptions about me.  When I started to eat fish, I was hesitant to lay down my vegetarian label because it felt comfy, plus I still wanted to be associated with the positive ethical assumptions one sometimes makes about vegetarians.  But I had to, because it didn't fit anymore...it was a too tight sweater that had to be tossed in the donation pile no matter how I'd loved it.  I fell short of its expectations and at times seeped through it's seams.  It felt uncomfortable because it wasn't true.

God is no different.  Most assumed definitions of God make me fidget and do little for me spiritually.  Divinity, too, but I like the word better than the G-word.

Einstein referred to what amazed him as "the awe of the universe".  I clutch that phrase a bit because I am so amazed by life and emotion and people and miracles-it seems to encompass so much.  Some things are too complex, beautiful, and emotional to describe in language.  The little things that sparkle in the spaces between what we can talk about are the places I feel divinity dwelling, like in the suppression of air beneath my baby's hand as he is placing it over mine or the gasp between my neck and earlobe of my lover's breath.

I reach for my pen or my camera and find that this disappearing and reappearing piece of lovedust has escaped through my fingers again.

My friend SJ gives the greatest hugs ever, no one can duplicate them. She makes a circle on your back with her hands, but it feels like a swirl of warm energy on your soul.  Divinity.

That splithair second between a dividing embryo's cells-divinity.

Wings and wind lifting together...a fleeting pink and purple sunset...the subtle and sometimes surprising drive in each of us to act out of immense love toward another being...a sincere almost-tear floating in the corner of my girlfriend's eye...colostrum's magical antibodies...

For me, none of this magic lives in judgement of others, in the concept of a wrathful God, punishment, sin, or whatever the opposite of sin is, or in labels.

I don't know what to call it and I don't suppose it needs to be called anything at all.

Comments

[ally bean]

Beautifully written. I like "the awe of the universe" term for the divine. I've not seen that before.

And like you I'm tired of labels and judgement. I am surrounded by that kind of weirdness and often wonder why people cling to such things. Just belong to yourself and let others do the same. Is that so tricky?

[Laurel]

I grew up in a small town where people frequently prefaced remarks with, "We're all Christians here, right?" It's not spirituality or the idea of God that repels me; it's religion. Huston Smith's "The World's Religions" quotes Lincoln Steffens' fable of a man who climbed to the top of a mountain and, standing on tiptoe, seized hold of the Truth. Satan, suspecting mischief from this upstart, had directed one of his underlings to tail him; but when the demon reported with alarm the man's success -- that he had seized hold of the Truth -- Satan was unperturbed. "Don't worry," he yawned. "I'll tempt him to institutionalize it." I love that.

Speaking of labels, this morning I got up at 6:00-ish with Grace, fixed us breakfast, got us bathed and dressed, went to the park, went grocery shopping, fixed us lunch, put her down for her nap, cleaned up, did a little online banking, had a quickie nap of my own (which felt more like a coma), got up when she woke up, played for a while and then started making dinner. (Pork chops, sweet potatoes and a salad. The chops were delicious -- does that make you think less of me?) I started to clean up while John brushed Grace's teeth and put on her jammies, then went upstairs to watch a YouTube video of Andrea Bocelli singing Elmo to sleep and kiss Grace good night before John read her a story (we alternate nights). Then I caught up on your blog, went downstairs and finished cleaning up. It was 9:30 when I was done. Guess what I am? Yup, I'm a friggin' HOUSEWIFE.

Anyway, all the good stuff I like to think of as the truth. My day sounds tedious, but when I hear Grace laugh or John brings me home yummy chocolate or I write the perfect sentence in my novel, the rest is all bullshit.

[jen lemen]

right there with you on this one.

[penelope]

LOVE this post... and I'm so with you. The awe of the universe...
I never actually thought of not *having* to put a label on it...and I will cling to that idea! :)

[Karen]

So right up my road! I am a g-d buddhist priest but I'm not really buddhist enough for most buddhists! I'm not a vegetarian, not a social activist, not a lactivist, not an unschooler, not AP, not PC, not nearly -ist or -arian enough for anyone's standards. And that's the thing: the truth isn't an -ist, it's an is. Truth is (as we say about Zen): "a transmission outside of words and phrases." You're it.