My most irrational belief is that I have a purpose. Rationally, I acknowledge that my existence is as random and as meaningful as the existence of the fly I just waved away -- but I don't know, I just feel like I'm here for some kind of reason. I don't even know what that reason is (though while my children were young, I knew that I was put here FOR THEM, and I'm not saying that with any kind of irony). It's a belief that keeps me going, and keeps me trying, and so I cherish it.
I'm so sorry about your brother, and about the pain and addiction he (and you) dealt with in his life. Thank you for sharing.
Oh yes, Hell was the first thing I stopped believing in on my journey out of a secretive fundamentalist Christian sect. I love the idea of the eagle. ... I've heard a similar story here in Australia where three talented creative students were killed in a tragic car accident. One was an exchange student. All were friends. Three kookaburras came to the parents' house of one of the students and stayed around. It brought them lots of comfort.
I’m still thinking about this essay after reading it early this morning. I think it’s lovely to imagine your brother’s spirit or whatever embodied in your eagle friend, even if it’s not reality. Whatever we do to bring ourselves comfort in grief feels acceptable. I mean, if you think about it, a song lyric or line in a movie might remind you of your brother, and you might imagine he sent that to you from beyond to assure you that’s okay now. I don’t see that as any different than your Eagle visitor.
When my stepdad died, my very evangelical mom was preoccupied with wondering if he was with her, watching her, being present with her, or if he was “too busy worshiping at the feet of Jesus” to even remember that she existed. She so desperately wanted to feel his presence.
After I struggled through “correct theological” responses to her at first, a wise friend suggested my mom needed comfort, not theology. So we landed on all the ways Gordy was speaking to her throughout her day, which got her through the loneliest times.
I've often(still do) wondered how we got bamboozled,into a belief in a "afterlife".in the first place.Without any evidence and a great deal of ego,we've become governed by a concern for nothingness.
Yeah, it’s outright skepticism for me, at least for the idea that any bird is a manifestation of any human. But I’m not at all skeptical of the power of a belief or a story to help people make sense of the world. In the end, I think the cosmos is way too complicated for us to understand it fully, so each of us applies the stories that work for them.
Oh hell yes. The “even Hitler could go to heaven” comment made me chuckle because I had completely forgotten about all those mind tricks we threw at our youth pastor growing up. My husband and I left our church in 2012 (you know the big one I’m talking about), and a couple years later I spent the weekend with some friends - we were all unpacking how things were going for us since leaving. It was the beginning of many of our deconstruction eras. Anyway, one of my friends said she was reading a book about hell not existing as a *place* and I remember how it totally blew my mind that since childhood I never thought to question the existence of hell.
My most irrational belief is that I have a purpose. Rationally, I acknowledge that my existence is as random and as meaningful as the existence of the fly I just waved away -- but I don't know, I just feel like I'm here for some kind of reason. I don't even know what that reason is (though while my children were young, I knew that I was put here FOR THEM, and I'm not saying that with any kind of irony). It's a belief that keeps me going, and keeps me trying, and so I cherish it.
I'm so sorry about your brother, and about the pain and addiction he (and you) dealt with in his life. Thank you for sharing.
Oh yes, Hell was the first thing I stopped believing in on my journey out of a secretive fundamentalist Christian sect. I love the idea of the eagle. ... I've heard a similar story here in Australia where three talented creative students were killed in a tragic car accident. One was an exchange student. All were friends. Three kookaburras came to the parents' house of one of the students and stayed around. It brought them lots of comfort.
So beautifully written. And bless that eagle! 💔
Beautifully written. You're a natural...
I’m still thinking about this essay after reading it early this morning. I think it’s lovely to imagine your brother’s spirit or whatever embodied in your eagle friend, even if it’s not reality. Whatever we do to bring ourselves comfort in grief feels acceptable. I mean, if you think about it, a song lyric or line in a movie might remind you of your brother, and you might imagine he sent that to you from beyond to assure you that’s okay now. I don’t see that as any different than your Eagle visitor.
When my stepdad died, my very evangelical mom was preoccupied with wondering if he was with her, watching her, being present with her, or if he was “too busy worshiping at the feet of Jesus” to even remember that she existed. She so desperately wanted to feel his presence.
After I struggled through “correct theological” responses to her at first, a wise friend suggested my mom needed comfort, not theology. So we landed on all the ways Gordy was speaking to her throughout her day, which got her through the loneliest times.
I've often(still do) wondered how we got bamboozled,into a belief in a "afterlife".in the first place.Without any evidence and a great deal of ego,we've become governed by a concern for nothingness.
Yeah, it’s outright skepticism for me, at least for the idea that any bird is a manifestation of any human. But I’m not at all skeptical of the power of a belief or a story to help people make sense of the world. In the end, I think the cosmos is way too complicated for us to understand it fully, so each of us applies the stories that work for them.
Side note, I was down in the Seward Park neighborhood with a friend on Saturday looking at the heron rookery and hoping to see one of those Eagles!
Oh hell yes. The “even Hitler could go to heaven” comment made me chuckle because I had completely forgotten about all those mind tricks we threw at our youth pastor growing up. My husband and I left our church in 2012 (you know the big one I’m talking about), and a couple years later I spent the weekend with some friends - we were all unpacking how things were going for us since leaving. It was the beginning of many of our deconstruction eras. Anyway, one of my friends said she was reading a book about hell not existing as a *place* and I remember how it totally blew my mind that since childhood I never thought to question the existence of hell.