Dear Fortune Cookie,

Since you did not contain a fortune at lunch today, are you still a "fortune" cookie? I feel like I got a misfortune cookie; no one wants that.

Sincerely,
Will
P.S. You were still delicious.

Someone Else

I read more of Blue Like Jazz tonight. To the author, one of the driving forces is the desire to be someone else, someone different. He claims that everyone feels this way, and that if there were someone who did not feel this way, that he would stick out like a sore thumb.

I'm not necessarily content with who I am, but I do not want to be someone different. I've had friends tell me they've "changed" over the years, or that I've "changed". I always retort with, "I haven't changed, so much as grown, or progressed." I'm not the same person I was, but I'm not so different that you wouldn't recognize me if you stood me next to my former self. I've always known myself to be different from other people, and I've always felt that this was one aspect that the difference manifested itself.

The author's point is that this desire to be new, to be baptized, is what draws us to God. We make a choice at some point, to live a life controlled by sin, or to leave that life behind and follow God. Maybe I made that choice long before I could understand what it meant.

So Now I'm Wondering

What would it be like if I did without the things I do not need? I certainly don't need a several hundred square foot apartment. I don't need a computer at home. I don't need a microwave. The list is quite long, things I have that I don't need to do the other things in my life.

What if I lived in a shoebox of a place, rode the bus to work, and owned only a week's worth of work clothes and one pair of shoes? Or what if I took it a step further, and shared everything? What if I lived in a small place with six people, and we shared our clothes, and everything else? Owning nothing, yet having everything I need to do the things like work. I might be able to make the adjustment of not having a giant bed, but could I give up my privacy? Could I give up the flexibility of having my own stuff?

And then it begs the question, "What would be gained?" Indeed. Perhaps some resource reallocation, more of my income could go further. But on a personal level, it seems like I would have to strengthen my relationships with other people whether I wanted to or not. Sharing life with others has always been important to me. I wonder...

Religion: I am the Problem

I finally started reading. I've been slacking on the reading in general, so I decided to return my Christopher Moore book and tackle this one.

The author makes a convincing argument that humans are flawed, it's in our nature to do evil. He points out that we all drive differently when we're being followed by a squad car. I'm convinced, I'm evil. He goes on to point out that while the world is filled with this flaw of human nature, the best plan of attack, is to look at one's self.

I am the problem.

This is something I feel like I've known for as long as I can remember. If I want to change the world I have to start with myself. If I want people around me to be happier, I have to be happy. If I want people around me to care more, I have to care. Lead by example. I can't ask someone else to do something that I've shown myself unwilling to do. What this means though, is something quite great:

I am also the solution.

Religion

I'm about to start reading a book that was loaned to me, Blue Like Jazz. I don't know what it's about beyond it being an atheist's point of view on Christianity. The man who loaned it to me is a retired pastor, and the father of the fencing club's former advisor. So before I read it, I want to get my own beliefs down on paper and then write some reflections along the way and see how my own faith changes or grows. The last sermon I went to, the pastor spoke about how faith is like a coat, that there is your coat, that fits you well, and suits your life. There are other coats, that are not yours, or do not suit your life at this time. So here's my coat:

1. Talking about my faith is not "embarrassing", but "awkward" is probably a good word for it. So many people my age seem to steer away from the church that it's just hard to bring up in conversation. When I do bring it up outside of a church setting, I fear that people will judge me to be a super religious zealot who will try to convert them if they let their guard down. I think the problem is that when I bring it up in a church setting, I feel like I'm talking to religious zealots who will convert me if I let my guard down. I think that's why I like going to a church where I knew someone outside of the church before I saw them in church.


2. I currently believe that I've been able to hear "God" all my life, and just never knew it. The voice of God, to me, is what I also call my conscience. That not so little voice that tells me the morally right thing to do, the one I listen to some times, and ignore other times. It tells me to love others, to be forgiving, to do my best, to stand up for the weak and less fortunate. That sounds like God to me. Maybe not everyone has a conscience like mine, I always assumed they did until not too long ago.


3. Church is not the ideal way for me to worship. I'm a doer. I like to swing a hammer to fix a home. I like to make posters. I like to work with groups and be a teacher, an example. I do not feel like my faith is well developed enough to be a leader, I'm not sure I'll ever feel that way, but I know I want to feel that way.


4. I get hung up when it comes to interpreting the Bible. I read a passage and I see a God who like to make life needlessly challenging, filled with despair, and littered with trials. Others read the same passage and see growth, hope, and success. I'm usually told I'm an optimistic person, but not so much when it comes to the Bible it seems. I want to be able to see those words in a more positive light.

So that's where I'll start. We'll see where I finish.