Return to 'Escape from Catholicism'

I'm better now. I don't feel any animosity towards Catholics or their religion. I have been Catholic since I was born. So why change now, you ask? Well actually, it has been brewing for some time. The little differences in the opinion are mostly what bother me. I don't want to get into them right now, however I can tell you of the 'straw that broke the camel's back', so to speak. I heard the Cardinal speak backing proposal 2, the further definition of marriage as being between a man and a woman. This made me angry. In one sentence, the Cardinal spoke of forgiveness and tolerance of Catholics towards everyone else, and then he states that the Catholic church will not tolerate the recognition of same sex marriages. It made me feel sick. First, if two people love each other then they should be allowed to get married if they want. It would be discrimination otherwise-something the Catholic church supposedly speaks out against. Second, the Catholic church should stay out of politics. They should worry about administering to the sick, dying, deprived, and to the spiritual health of their members. It probably wouldn't hurt if they tried to educate those that don't understand what they practice WITHOUT trying to convert them. I realize now that, for my own spiritual health and sanity, it's time for a change.

Diarios de motocicleta

Saturday night, Jen and I went out to celebrate our anniversary. It isn't on Sweetest Day, that was just the closest free day we had (stupid Hallmark holiday!). We had a nice dinner and then went to see a movie: Diarios de motocicleta, "The Motorcycle Diaries". A film based on the journals of Ernesto Che Guevara and Alberto Granato as they took a motorcycle trip across Latin America. The film was beautifully shot, and had a endearing human element. I only comment on the human element because I find the history books, as well as those that compile/write them, only recount the basic facts about their subjects and with cold, sometimes slanted text. The film shows how the events that happened to Ernesto helped shape his future. Very poignant. Also a beautiful 1939 Norton 500 motorcycle( Dad would like that!). I think I'd like to read Ernesto's diaries of this trip.
Speaking of reading, I'm making my way through (2nd try, I might add) Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I am enjoying this book very much. I can say that I wasn't ready to read it the first time I tried. Something about motorcycles that fascinates me...is it a symbolism? Or the idea of being outside of a car and more into your surroundings? Hmmm...Anyway the book is grabbing me thoroughly, and despite my "responsibilities" I'm having difficulties putting it down. It makes me wish I could have been on the trip the author is writing about(I guess the book is close enough). It also makes me want a motorcycle, too.

Escape from Catholicism

I've had it. I'm out. I don't know why it didn't happen before. I'm not a catholic anymore. It's strange, making this decision after being raised in the religion. It's like part of my bridge'o'life gave way, with nothing but uncertainty beneath me. Except that ONE thing is certain...I can't be catholic anymore. I can't be part of a religion that is so narrow minded and unsupportive of my own beliefs. It feels so two-faced. Ugh...more later, after I calm down.

Untitled

So much time I see

But no one's here to share

All the energy that wastes.

Nothing accomplished-

Empty cups on the table-

Empty spoons in their hands

And the table lies chaste.

White linen spread over dark oak

Hanging like molasses

Never touching the ground.

Scary drivers?

I'm out driving today, and coming up on a stoplight. I look in my rearview mirror-I always do so I can see if someone's going to hit me(I hate suprises)-and I see a car fast approaching. At first it looks like it isn't going to stop in time, but it does stop and only inches from my rear bumper too. My now widened eyes take in what my brain still hasn't quite comprehended: a fairly young, blond haired (with cornrows, I might add) woman who is smoking a cigarette and talking on a cell phone. She has a handicap parking sign dangling from her rearview mirror and a very young child in the passenger seat next to her(wearing a seatbelt-thank God). I am waiting to turn left, so I can watch how she is talking while waving about her free(?) hand. I really don't know how she could steer her car- either by extreme skill or by sheer luck. I found it unnerving that she was driving around a small child, but the child seemed calm, relaxed and content and the woman's car seemed to be in good shape(granted I could not see all of it). Maybe what I witnessed was a weird but true example of the ability of women to multi-task effectively and efficiently? Maybe...but I have also seen women AND men talking on cell phones and driving like idiots. Cell phones could indeed be the great social equalizer when people use them while driving. All this leads me to a simple(?) equation(Jen, I hope you appreciate this!):
people(cell phones)+driving = me scared shitless

Nothing special...honest

Nothing of too much significance happened to me today. Pretty routine actually. Gotta change that somehow...
Yesterday, however, was a little more significant. I talked to a friend that I haven't seen for around four years. Out of the blue, I emailed him to an old work address. He responded and then we played phone tag a bit before finally talking yesterday. He sounded exactly the same as I remember. I know it's only been four years, but shouldn't he sound different? Maybe because I feel like a different person, I am assuming that everybody else will feel or be different, older, wiser(?!?), more mellow? Well actually, I think he sounded happier...it was great hearing from him anyway.
Maybe I'll just stop writing...

Waking up from a dream...

I had a thought...actually several. I wondered, briefly, what I would do if I awoke from dreaming only to find that the life I have (with Jen) didn't exist-that it actually was a dream. Think about it for a minute...everything you lived up to the point you "awoke" would be a phantasm. There would be nothing concrete to reinforce the memories. Does this sound like a movie? If I didn't go crazy, I would be incredibly sad. Who knows what kind of life I would wake up to? I cringe at the thought. I would want to go back to the dream (and Jen) and stay forever.
Am I going somewhere with this? Cut back to My Life (or Dream, if you will):
I ponder all this after having a wonderful weekend with Jen. Friday was my birthday and we headed to my parents for dinner and time with family. Everyone was there and that was cool because it is hard to coordinate schedules sometimes. Jen and I even learned how to play poker. My brother-in-law taught us and we had a family tournament. Jen ended up winning it all and I think she was a little disappointed because we were playing for chips and not money. It was a good time. On Saturday, after sleeping in a bit, Jen took me horseback riding. I had never been before, so this was a new experience. We headed out to the Brighton Riding Stables, in Howell (go figure!). Jen's horse's name was Baby and mine was Duke which, coincidentally, was the same name my grandfather was known as most of his adult life. It was as if I were riding with grandpa. Very cool. After riding we stopped in Royal Oak for some ice cream, yay! Then we headed home for dinner (after the ice cream had settled) and some movies. It was great.
I wouldn't want to wake up from this.