A bizzarre experience

Yesterday my boyfriend and I trudged through the rain and wet leaves in the early morning to attend a Russian Orthodox service. Jordan knew a bit what it would be like (the standing, the length) but I had absolutely no idea. We walk in to a stifling room full of incense and icons of saints. I felt like I had entered a different country It was similar to when you walk into a bar in a tiny town and all of the people turn around and look at you wondering why your in THEIR bar. We found a place to stand as far back as possible. I  had my huge winter coat on and had to try to figure out a way to not be in the way as old ladies in headscarfs glared at me. I realized that everyone had their heads covered. Luckily I had worn a scarf so I discreetly put it on my head like I knew exactly what I was doing. The service began with a deep booming voice coming out of no where and singing very quickly in Russian. Everyone crossed themselves. And then crossed themselves again. And Again. I didn't know how to cross myself and it took me a good ten minutes for me to figure it out. About every 30 seconds they crossed themselves and it didn't seem to have any rhyme or reason. It was very difficult to keep up. Then a giant man in a gold dress came out swinging around incense like a mace and everyone bowed and crossed themselves. He walked around the entire room going to each saint. Then he returned  to the front of the church and yelled in Russian some more.
With the saints and the incense and the ritual it all felt very pagan. It was more of a performance than any service I've ever attended.
People were going in and out of the church at random. Some came in an hour late which gave Jordan and I the feeling that this service was no where near ending. We left after an hour because we couldn't breathe to the glares of the old women next to us.

I've finished my third draft of my play. It is one step nearer what I want, but I still have a long ways to go. I've found I have a lot of remnants, pages and pages of thoughts that didn't make it into the play. Should it all go by the wayside? Is any of it valuable? It remains to be seen.

I found several letters that my mother wrote me. They are full of bible verses and her thoughts. I decided to use them in the play.

I want to do a bit more research on exactly what happens when we die, scientifically. Also, I want to go to a Catholic Mass sometime this week, but not on a Sunday.

I can't stop thinking about rituals. If you do something enough will it lead you to understanding? Amy Thone talks about the importance of repetition for understanding text. That the repetition can be freeing. Liturgical churches will here the same stories over and over. Most religions are based in ritual even the most modern church service has the same structure of Worship, Prayer, Message.
If you do something over and over does it make it more true?
Or does it begin to lose its meaning?
When I was young and believed without care I loved communion. The tiny plastic cups of grape juice and tiny crackers. And then to wait for the exact moment the pastor told you to take the body of Christ. I felt like if I did everything just so, God would love me. It's like getting all the answers right on a test. There is something so satisfying in an easy answer. In checking something off your list. Find your faith? Check. Believe in God? Check.
But, now we know it isn't that easy at all.
I didn't really know why I was taking communion or what it meant. I just liked that it was something I could do well.
My world is much bigger and I question what makes my rituals any better than the rituals of the world. And how do I pick which ones are right for me?
If it feels good?
If it's difficult to do?
Who gets to decide that we bow before we enter the temple? What if I don't feel like it right now?
How many times?
I'm not a very patient person. If it takes too long I lose interest.
Maybe my ritual is the constant search.

Some claim that religion gives us morals.
But, Jordan believes in nothing and he is more loyal and kind to people and more "moral" and caring for the world than anyone I know.

It is nearly impossible for me to go to a church service on the weekend. I am realizing that although I really like the idea of it, it might not be something that is possible for me right now. I will definitely keep trying. And I will probably be able to go to one this week. But, most Sundays I work and then also have homework.
This week I want to explore rituals of all lands. I want to go to Catholic Mass and maybe one other ritual based service.
This week I will finish the 3rd draft of my play.
I can't put it off any longer.
Let's do it.

Dear Lord.

Please protect me and keep me.

I pray that I can be a playwright.

I pray that I am a success.

I pray that my nerves will not get the best of me.

I pray for understanding and hope.

I don’t want to be afraid.

I pray that people will listen to me.

I pray that you will hear me.

Please I want to know, I can’t be content anymore.

I need guidance.

I need answers.

How long?

How long do I have before I have to make a choice?

Everything feels misguided.

When I go to your church I feel like I am being criticized for the way I am.

But, I don’t want to change.

What’s wrong with me?

I don’t think it’s anything out of the ordinary.

Most of the time I like who I am, but you seem unable to accept it.

So I guess we’re at a stand still.

You don’t like me and I don’t know if I like you.

 Maybe we should take a break and re-evaluate this relationship.

If you’re willing to make some changes for me then I will try to do the same for you.

That’s what every good relationship is, right? Compromise?

I want to love you Lord.

I really do.

Amen.

What keeps us worshiping a God that is without answers? A God that picks and chooses. What makes people need a religion when they didn’t necessarily want one in the first place?

Oh, Death.

I am so damn afraid. I will die. We all will die. From our first breathe. That was our fate. How are we supposed to keep living! At one point I was promised eternity. Where is the comfort in that? The fact that I will die is just as puzzling as the idea of eternity. I’m not even patient enough to practice the piano and you think I will be patient with this? Just tell me what will happen so I don’t have to be afraid.

A sense of place and a sense of purpose. That is what worship provides. A church. A mosque. A temple. A place where like minded people go to worship their god through song and prayer. But what happens when you can’t find the people that you need. What if you need all of the people in all of the places of worship to help you find your way? One doesn’t seem to be enough for me. Will you be my people. Can we worship together right now? Even though it isn’t Sunday. Can we please ask the burning questions. Can we trust that our Gods will answer? Why do we even have to ask. We knew the answer all along.

I did five interviews this week. 

I'm sorry that I won't be able to upload all of them tonight. Youtube is taking a very long time to load.

Here are a few of them:

Sydney

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3QPs547Vif4
Lucie
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X4_chbiQdls
Kaitlin
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mB12Fwp7lXI

While I had planned to go to the Sanskrit service this evening, for once I ended up working on something else besides this play. It happens to be another play, one that I am submitting for the New Works festival. But, there is a Sanskrit service every week and I will try to go to two services this week. I just wish that religious services weren't all on Sunday. Gaaaaaaaaah. But, maybe I can find a Wednesday mass. I know there is a meditation service at Seattle U. I will try to do that.
I found out last Wednesday that my play isn't being read in playwriting until after Thanksgiving. Which is a major relief, but it also caused me to get a little lax. I only wrote for three days this week, but I did come to some major conclusions. My last draft of my play is getting in the way. I'm going to forget about it for a while and write an entire new play. The if I feel like it I will combine them later on. I feel successful in my re-evaluation of my interviews. They definitely are causing me to personalize more within my writing. Kaitlin's really put me at ease. And Kayla's blew my mind. Did you know that there are atoms that only exist if we believe they are there? Yeah, I know. I'll explain more later.
So this week:
writewritewrite.
More interviews!
2 services.
Get after it!

Oh, Death.

Love this song. His moans are very reminiscent of keening. When grief is past words

I was trying to find a chant that I could possibly learn and while I was looking I found this one

After a few minutes of this my heart started racing. I was trying to write something down and my fingers stopped working. I stopped chewing my nails a long time ago but I bit off half of my nail because I couldn't get out what I wanted to say. It felt like it was pressing into me.


I think these next two are better suited for my cause. They are more calming.

A description of the chant: http://www.wildmind.org/mantras/figures/shanti

This is my favorite I think

http://www.wildmind.org/mantras/figures/sabbesatta

Sabbe satta sukhi hontu

It means "may all beings be well"

Which I think is very similar to my other mantra "All shall be well"

Questions without answers.

This week I sent an email to the Idris Mosque to make an appointment to visit on Friday. Also I am going to the hindu temple on Sunday and depending on how long that takes I could make it to the late night mass at Seattle U. But I would really be happy if i could do at least two.

My second draft is due in a little more than a week and I've written so much and nothing at all.
I'm almost worried.

This week I will write my thoughts for at least twenty minutes a day.

Here are some thoughts.

Must religion have a home (church)?
Why must we choose one religion?
Are some people innately not religious or do we all have our own way of expressing religion?
How do people accept death?
What is the definition of religion (deeper than the dictionary) ?
Why doesn't God speak to me!?

There is nearly a perfect community happening at Occupy Seattle. And yet I don't like it at all. I want to be there with my boyfriend. But there is something about it that makes me entirely uncomfortable.

I read my Playwright Manifesto that I wrote at a poetry reading last night. It was invigorating.

"Even death is not to be feared by one who has lived wisely." Buddha

"Why do we die?"
 "It makes life important"

I actually really enjoyed going to this church. I was worried that I wouldn't fit in but everyone was very welcoming. It was like Buddhist first communion (It's called an Ochigo Procession) so a bunch of little kids were all dressed up in fancy hats and walked around the temple. Kinda like this but inside.

We did a few chants in the beginning and then the Sensei spoke. It was the perfect day to come because he was speaking about death. (!!!) It was a veterans day sermon.  He spoke about how we needn't worry about the dead because they are taken care of. We should worry about the people left behind that are hurting from their loss.

The rituals within Buddhism (At least in this church) though similar to Catholicism, have an entirely different feel to them. It feels like they are more casual and not as strict but somehow they feel deeper and more personalized. They are less rigid. But, this could have just felt this way because I've never seen Buddhist rituals in person. The chants were comforting. Rather than being distracted like I am when I sing hymnals (I get caught up in whether or not I believe what the hymnals are saying.) I could easily agree with the chants (Well the ones that were in English) I appreciated that the text was printed in the original language as well as Japanese and English. Sometimes I feel like a lot of the bible gets lost in translation.

Their temple is beautiful. Ornate and gold. I could picture myself going to this church. But I really don't know much about Buddha's teachings. Maybe it was just a pretty picture. I want my religion to be supported by a church and people that believe the same things as I do. But, I still haven't found that. Maybe my religion doesn't belong in a building. Maybe it's just everywhere.

The Lord Almighty grant us a peaceful night and a perfect end.

I just got back from the Compline at St. Marks. I really enjoyed the experience. It was a cold and rainy night as Jordan and I braved the slippery roads on the scooter. Upon arriving in the parking lot a fellow scooterist commented that we were "brave souls" Why thank you sir. The cathedral was old and beautiful. We laid down on the floor and looked up at the ceiling. After a few moments of shuffling  the choir began. The first note sent chills up my spine, but that moment was as close as I would get to feeling anything transcendent. This experience has led me to an understanding of just how short my attention span is. While the music was beautiful, people kept walking around, coming in late. And I was struck with this irresistible desire to see what they looked like. I can't explain it. I wanted to know what people that go to church looked like I suppose. (They look like people) I was surprised when Jordan and I sat down that many of the people near us were close to our age. They even were kinda dressed like us.
But my inability to concentrate has intrigued me.
A practice in meditation. I have never been able to successfully meditate for longer than 2 minutes. And that 2 minutes is after an intense yoga work out. This week I want to give meditation a try. Tomorrow morning will be my first attempt. Next Sunday I want to go to the meditation service at the Buddhist Temple. There is a meditation group at Seattle U as well that I want to look into.
I do want to go back to St. Marks again. I liked the feeling of it. It felt ancient. I want to try again. I feel like I was on the edge. I just barely missed something.