Ramadan is a month of purification, where we release ourselves of the mistakes of our past as well as the fears of our future, and instead embrace the sanctity of now. God, being the author of time and therefore is also being both completely within and throughout time, is that ineffable now; that fluidity which allows for what we call free will.
Imagine our existence as a hot spring in snow. We have within us the ability to take any patch of snow and place it into the hot spring, where it will become fluid, and evaporate into the sky. The hardened snow around us is every potentiality that we can conceive, frozen in a specific point in time. We can take any patch of snow and place it into the hot spring, where it will activate and flow throughout the hot spring. The hot spring, then, is the fluidity of free will, and the potentials that we chose create the water that surrounds us. Once that patch of snow has melted completely and its essence has swum its course, it is then released into the sky as vapor, a mere trace of what it once was, to join with all of the other patches of snow that have been melted. All that we do is connected like that water, and we are in that hot spring; we have the ability to choose from any patch of snow of potentiality from anywhere around us; this is what is meant by embracing the sanctity of now.
I have often wondered what I will do when I return to America. Will I continue working in a health related field, somehow? Will I go to work for the Department of Health and Human Services? Will I study for the GRE and try to go back to school to get my Masters in Psychology? Will I return and live an anonymous life, similar to the one that I lived before I left everything that I knew to come here?
I had spoken with someone back home about what I should do when I return; we will call him Stitch. I want to do something that will bring me alive. Something that won’t drain my spirit as my previous jobs have. I want to heal. I have always felt that need burning within me. At first, I wanted to be a doctor, so that I could heal people’s bodies whenever physical illness took over. However, the idea of simply healing bodies seemed pointless to me. All bodies in this world, in the end, fail us. I then moved toward psychology, so that I could then heal people’s minds. I believed that the power of the human mind could assist in healing the body. It has been shown that many illnesses can be traced back to mental stress. However, even the mind can fall prey to illness, and any attempt to heal the mind was not addressing the root of said illness in need of healing.
This is what brought me to where I am. As I sit here, I begin to think about Ramadan. To go back to the hot spring analogy, Ramadan, then, is the month where we have the ability to empty out that poll of our now-ness, and then look around us, and refill it anew. We have the ability to use our free will to refill this spring with potentialities of pure snow. I look around me as I sit in the hot spring. Above me are the mists of the past, filled with my Catholic upbringing. I feel the water around me of the Buddhist teachings that I swim in. I look around me and see snow of Islam around me.
I told Stitch that I was going to pray. And I feel that I have been doing that. I have always been open to exploring new religions. I am a seeker; that is what I do. I have always felt soothed by the Catholic mass; I miss it. But just as much as I am soothed by the song of Catholicism, I have been intrigued by Islam. Upon further investigation, however, I have come to the conclusion that the theological implications of the creator God concept still force me to appreciate the teaching of the Buddha. Even to accept the fact that there is an author of existence both within and throughout existence implicates it to the nature of the creation. I cannot relegate the questions of theodicy to a simple phrase, nor can muster the strength to go around repeating, “This is the best of all possible worlds.” Even if I were to entertain my own theodicy argument that I made regarding the illusion of time, space, good, and evil, I am then left with the theology of said creator god being as illusory as the ego, which was my original position.
I told Stitch that I wanted to go back to America to continue religious studies. As of now, however, doing it from a Christian perspective doesn’t give me the aliveness that studying the nature of existence through the Buddhist perspective does. And as of now, I cannot see myself converting to Islam. But I hope that, in the end, I will be able to pursue a form of study that allows me to continue my desire to heal. Making people come alive is what makes me come alive.
2 comments:
This is just my idea.You don't have to adhere to any religion to want to heal people physically and spiritually.You seem to already know what is required of you. No need to study other religions You already know what path to follow.
I know, and thank you for that. The reason, however, that I remain open to different religions is because I know that for many people, the title that I use will affect the message. This is unavoidable. If I call myself a Christian, then that will have an affect on some people. The same is true if I were to call myself a Muslim, a Buddhist, a seeker, Spiritual but not Religious, or anything else. As of now, though, I am content with the title of Buddhist.
Post a Comment