Bad religion

Imagine no religion. I mean, wouldn't that be nice? I am all for spirituality and God and faith and love and one-ness, but identifying oneself with a religious label that excludes the possibility of truth from "foreign" belief systems is just so counterproductive. Inclusivity is what I love about Buddhism, but even it is an –ism, therefore something that many people have strong convictions, and strong misconceptions, about.

Sure, all the major world religions have amazing teachings to impart to us. You go where you're fed… but with the awareness that there are plenty of other dishes out there to taste. Looking at the wide range of teachings available is, in a way, comforting. There's bound to be some book or teacher or practice that helps you feel more empowered and inspired.

Tonight, I went to see a sweet documentary. Ten Questions for the Dalai Lama. There were no previews, no annoying commercials before the film. Just a small, pitch black theater (it's playing at the Dobie, this week only) and a handful of mostly middle-aged viewers. His Holiness the Dalai Lama is adorable! I'd never heard him speak before, had only read books and seen his picture. The film is as much about him as the homeland from which he is exiled, Tibet, and the plight of its culture under the Chinese oppression. It gave a succinct, though simplified, history of Buddhism. It left me feeling calm, content, and very fortunate to have stumbled across the gem of the dharma (Buddhist teachings) by way of yoga.

I am at a point where I'm ready to delve further into spiritual practice, and the summer is affording me the time and energy to do so. (Being busy is not a good excuse for not practicing, but all too often, I let other activities take priority during my overwhelming first year of teaching.) Anyroad, I have signed myself up for a ten-day retreat from June 27-July 8. It's at a Buddhist meditation center 45 miles from Dallas. Oh, and it's silent. No talking. No communication of any kind, really. No books, no journals, no computers, no phones, just you, your cushion, your mind, body and spirit. Yeah, it will be intense. But I feel ready. I think I can. The hardest part, I think, will be not writing. Journal writing has been such a lifeblood for me for so many years that to not process what I'm going through on the page will be weird.

Of course, when I told my parents, my mom flipped out a little bit and started her familiar soliliquoy on the merits of Catholicism. My dad remained quiet, but I know he doesn't mind. He believes in Jesus, but to him the most important apostles are John, Paul, George and Ringo. His patron saints are Page and Plant, and of course Dylan. Mom, however, does not GET why on EARTH I would subject myself to ten days of Buddhist brainwashing. This time, I held my own though. I'm sorry, I just don't LIKE Catholicism. I don't get much out of it at this time. Maybe that will change someday. And then she tells me I'm not supposed to get anything out and if that's what I'm looking for, I am barking up the wrong tree. That's a quote. In other words [mine], It's all about praising the lord, and it is a one-way street. You don't need to feel "good" or "inspired," you just need to go, sit/stand/kneel/recite prayers like a zombie, eat the bread, drink the wine, and voila! You are doing the right thing, at the One True Church. Aaaaaaaaah.

Regardless, with a little help from Buddhism, yoga, the slow flow of the Comal River, and my friends, I am staying very present for the time being (ha!) and enjoying most of my fleeting emotions, perceptions and sensations as they pass.

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