Today’s Mood Ingredients: Trusting, Trying, Anxious, Faithful.

I’ve always been a child of faith. Mostly because as kids, you tend to follow whatever path your parents are on, & in my case, that was a deep belief in Hinduism and our polytheism. They told me to go to temples with them, I went. I prayed because they were praying, & I mean, believing in God seemed like a normal life process. As I got older, the religious ceremonies and prayers became more time consuming activities, and not in a good way. I didn’t feel like going all the way to Pittsburgh or Queens to go to various temples when I thought logically, it made sense to just pray to all of the idols we had all over our house. I still believed in all of my Gods, but I didn’t want to take the time out of the rest of my life to go be grateful for something or to ask for something to someone who, at that point in my life, I wasn’t even sure existed.

At 17, I had a minor health scare which was a slight ordeal, but the residual (temporary) effect was an extremely swollen left side of my face & a crooked one-sided smile. At 17, we’re all narcissists and high school is a hall of mirrors reflected back to you in the faces of your peers. I was a senior; I didn’t quite process that my life had just been saved, I only knew that prom was coming, yearbook pictures were coming, & graduation pictures were coming. One day, I was so infuriated by the distorted reflection staring back at me in my mirror, that I threw it across the room & threw a nearby religious idol with it. I was so pissed off that any of this could be occurring, & naturally, I blamed God. I mean, if there were Gods, why would They ever let this tragedy happen to me? God isn’t supposed to allow for suffering, He/They (for me) are supposed to make sure that They protect you and take care of you. From that point forward, at a gradual pace that I didn’t even recognize until years later, my belief waned. The more terrible things I heard about in the world, the more (in hindsight, minor) things that came my way to overcome, the less I followed my parents’ customs anymore, the less I believed in prayer, & the more I sat in the car when they dragged us to the temple (by the way, this didn’t all just start because my face was a partially inflated balloon, I’m not that vain, but that is the first moment I recall really feeling a change). For many years following that, I became an atheist. I just couldn’t bring myself to feel that strength of faith or shift in energy or positivity in prayer or in God or the idea of God anymore. I had many “why me?” moments that we all have, but they didn’t propel me to seek a higher order; I just attributed it to “whatever, that’s life” & moved on. Sounds great when I write it that way, but when I look back now, those times in my life were when I felt the loneliest & most defeated.

I’m not sure exactly when I started to believe again, which is interesting in its own right because I just told you the exact moment when I stopped. Anyway, over many years, in a “slow & steady wins the race” kind of mentality, my faith slowly began to resurface. I didn’t throw a tantrum when we had religious events at home (my parents would always kick my ass anyway, but at least now they didn’t have to go through that whole absurd process anymore), I walked into the temple & paid my respects at least, and I did pray here and there for my family’s well being and for myself as well. Fast forward what I presume to be 10 years later to the present day. At 32, I can say I’ve become faithful again. Over the course of the past 4 months, both of my parents almost lost their lives and in the process, I nearly lost my everything, including my mind (thank God[s], they are both doing well now). In what is something that I deem entirely inexplicable, during this time, I experienced a pure faith resurgence to a level that I didn’t even have as a child, but we’ll chalk that up to less experience & understanding back then. While in the hospital with my dad for 3 days in late October and in two hospitals for 5 days + 3 weeks with my mom from January-February, I dug out the little Zip-Loc bag holding what had been labeled my “crew” almost 2 decades ago. A little plastic baggie that I had been carrying on & off for years filled with pocket-sized religious hymn books, small deities, etcetera, that had only ever been taken to exams in college or medical school and on plane rides. I [barely] slept on a recliner at each hospital with it attached to my side, one earphone plugged into my ear playing religious songs on an iTunes loop, and just imagined that these deities were in front of me in real life, from all different walks of life, & I would simply pray for one thing; that my parents would be okay (I still do this every night, only now, I thank Them all). In the beginning, it was more of a mind-diverting activity, just something to do to keep my mind off of the scarier things that were happening. But over time, I felt a palpable shift in energy within myself & outside of myself. I suppose it’s something you can only explain to someone else who has felt it, or actually in that case, you probably wouldn’t have to explain anything at all, but it was there. I began to have the depth of a feeling I had never felt before and I still couldn’t tell you what it is now, so I just keep calling it faith, but it’s more complex and intuitive than that (it’s like an Ivy Leaguer in the institutional hierarchy of emotions). It’s moved me to a point where I’ve been in tears because of it, it helps curb impressive anxiety attacks at times, it gave me the actual inner desire to go to the temple three times a week, & it has provided me with an overwhelming sense of gratitude that I cannot soon repay; and I can honestly say, I cannot remember the last time I prayed for myself. I inherently know what is most important to me & as long as I can graciously express thankfulness and gracefully ask for protection for my beloveds, I’m pretty sure Someone(s) up there or out there has got my back. (I completely forgot how much I loved that “Footprints In The Sand” poem until I started writing this post & I think my family has been “carried” a lot lately).

This isn’t meant to be an insane preachy Peter Popoff post. Let me reassure you of that right now. And also, sorry if it came off that way. But I promise I will not attempt to change your beliefs, I will not ask you to donate to my life fund, & I will not mail you Holy Water vials of any kind. You will also not be a witness to any miraculous occurrences, & for that one, I apologize! It’s simply a sentiment that I wanted to bring to light because I have an inkling that there are probably many of you out there like me. You may have suffered a hiccup in your faith in something, whatever it may be, and it may remain long gone or it may have resurfaced, but I’m sure (I hope!) plenty of people out there have had this experience and sometimes it’s nice to put something out there that may make someone else feel less alone. I know I felt extremely alone and even somewhat guilty in my faithless phase. That’s why I just urge you to put your belief in something. In anything. Believe in religion, believe in a higher power, believe in energy, believe in gratitude, believe in meditation; hell, believe in logic! But believe, wholeheartedly, in something..because it may help you find something you didn’t even know you were looking for.

P.S. My brother is an admitted atheist and while we don’t understand each other in that respect, his unwavering belief in logic and practicality is a spectacular thing to experience.

And if you’re not in the mood for any of the above, fear not, for in the immortal words of Diana King: I’ll say a little prayer for you.

“Today’s Interlude” is an excerpt from a New York Times article (linked below) that really hit home for me. But though there are no instruments, this poetry is still just as melodic.

“Dear God,” I begin,”Whatever we call you / Wherever we find you / in the laughter of our children / the tenderness of our parents / the strength of our brothers and sisters and friends/the closeness of our companions and husbands and wives. / In the arc of the pelican/the leap of the mullet, / the perfect sunny day / or incoming storm / In whatever ways we understand you, / in a church or synagogue or mosque, / or on a beach beneath a starry sky, / we offer gratitude for this day.” -Roy Hoffman, “Remembering To Pray”

Below, some art pieces I did during bouts of questioning, insomnia, and belief.