Material.

When my grandfather died there was the issue of what to do with his house. It was an old house, but really nice, in the more historic part of town. My mother wanted nothing to do with it. She wanted to sell it. It wasn't her childhood home. They had to sell their farm long ago, so to her it was just a house that my grandparents had lived in at one time. But, for my aunts it was an entirely different story. They wanted to keep the house in the family. They had the idea of renting it out, as soon as this idea popped up my mum had them buy her out. She already knew that this renting ordeal was going to be a disaster. They immediately started making renovation plans that were extensive, but ended up in a great white fence around the whole property. They couldn't bear to change anything else. And as for the renter? My aunt (who lives in Mill Valley, CA) is renting out the mother-in-law in the basement, for the 2 times a year she comes to visit. As for the house...no one lives there. A lot of the furniture is still there and some of the antiques my aunts didn't have room for. It sits, empty, like a museum in honor of my grandparents. Why was it so easy for my Mum to let go while my Aunts are still holding on with all their might? My Mum is more attached to the spiritual reality. She is so sure that she will see her parents in heaven. She doesn't need some house to remind her. She can even talk to them through God. While my Aunts, who don't necessarily believe in anything, need the tangible reality to assure them that there will be something they leave behind when they are gone, they need a physicalization of their memory.

My aunts. There are three and they are all interesting in their own way. One fell in love with a wealthy business man. They never married, never had children. He died and she got some of the money. Another fell in love with another wealthy man. He didn't die, but they never married, never had children. The third...she has been living with the same women since before I was born, but she is not a lesbian because that wouldn't be right...at least not in my family.  My mother is the only one that lives a (so called) average life of children and a husband.
I don't know what this has to do with my project, but it's interesting. Maybe if all my aunts had married and had been Christians like my mother I would be more willing to except the conceit. But to grow up with so many other options around me...
I find myself attached to the physical objects in an embarrassing way. I will cry over a lost sweater. I want to not care in these things and trust that there is more. But, something is always holding me back. I am filled with doubt and the ominous "What if!?"

A man who takes psychedelics to experience God. Gotta love the beard. When he talks about his sadness of telling his mother that he finds God through drugs and her disappointment, I really can relate. Not on the side of taking drugs, but just the simple fact that I can't easily believe what she believes.

The thing that really struck me in this video was the little kids. Writhing on the floor and crying. I remember being one of those kids. But I don't know if it was god or my intense desire for God that compelled me to tears. I even used to speak in tongues (Or at least I thought I could at the time). I don't anymore. It feels like pretend. Like pretending to speak a different language. I remember I was in a wooden room at church camp, and the counselor said that you may never be able to do it your whole life. It's a special gift that only a few people get. Well, I was a bit of a precocious little kid and what kind of kid wouldn't want a special gift that no one else had. So the words fell out of my mouth. It's weird for me to talk about it.  I'm always worried that people will think I'm a Christian. I'm not. Their exclusiveness freaks me out. This video freaks me out too.