Thirty by Thirty

The Power of the Pentagram: Part 2

Continued from The Power of the Pentagram: Part 1

After fourteen days of wrestling, this is what I’ve realized about the Power of the Pentagram:

The Pentagram has no power at all; it only crackles to life when infused with the electricity you lend it.

The Pentagram is like a letter of the alphabet: a meaningless scribble to the illiterate, a building block for a writer, an object of study to the linguist. The letter Z can run in Zebra, shine in Quartz or be ingested as Zucchini. It’s a fraternity (Zeta Beta Tau), the overflowing of a soda (fizz), and terror to a teenager (zit).It’s invigorating (zeal) and horrifying (Nazi): simultaneously unruly (jazz) and staid (Azan-Muslim call to prayer). Without the image you mold it to be, the letter Z is nothing. And neither is the Pentagram.

But.

If, like me, your brain hard-wired from birth for the Cause of Christ and his rule over the Enemy, Satan (who prowls the earth with his minions seeking to kill, steal and destroy—did I mention I didn’t need to fear ghosts? I had real, live demons to be afraid of!), AND the pentagram was held up as a symbol of All That Is Evil by your church and family and culture-at-large, well, that symbol has some serious power. Negative power. Evil power. Possibly even the power to invite demons to jump out of your closet and into your mind. Power you didn’t even know was still there, hiding in your subconscious, like a demon under your childhood bed. One that jumps out to say “BOO!” when you’re 29 and cocky, unafraid of the dark, thinking you’ve ridded yourself of all religious prejudice.

But.

If you aren’t at all like me— maybe you were raised by a Pagan, or the High Priest of a Wiccan coven, or perhaps your family didn’t have religious hang-ups of any kind—the Pentagram could take on all kinds of different meanings: from a Sacred symbol of the Divine, to a representation of the five elements (four physical: earth, air, fire, water, and one metaphysical: Spirit), to nothing at all. You would not believe in the Christian Satan, or his demons, or call upon anything evil. To you, there would ne no such thing as witchcraft in the Abrahamic religious sense.

Perhaps you were even raised with traditional religions but, like me, forged your own path to the Divine, and the Pentagram has become your symbol of transformation.

Speaking of which, I’d like a symbol of transformation. Maybe I will adopt the Venus Pentagram (below). Because for me, it represents a change—one I didn’t even know I needed to make. Stepping up to receive the Pagan blessing, then jumping back, then considering why—that process cleaned out a dark closet of prejudice that I didn’t even realize was there. And for that I will ever be thankful: both to the Symbol and to the people who graciously blessed me, in spite of myself, and accepted me into their circle, without judgment.

The planetary rotation of Venus creates this pentagram

So today I lend my own energy to their symbolic circle (which happens to contain a five-pointed star) declaring myself at peace with all its positive meaning(s), and appreciative of the Pagan faiths whose followers showed me such kindness. Though I still respect my decision to step back from the Blessing, (because to me, in that moment, it represented negativity, so it was not appropriate to receive it), I choose to receive it today (albeit 14 days late) with all the beauty and peace it means to your faiths. Blessed Be.

I’m not one for quoting much Scripture, but Romans 14 came to mind: One man considers one day more sacred than another; another man considers every day alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. He who regards one day as special, does so to the Lord.

For anyone who’d like to tar and feather me for this post, please consider the history of the Pentagram and its multiple meanings throughout history including–surprise!–Christian and Jewish usages.

Tagged 30 by 30, 30x30, beltane, blog faith, Christian, church, druid, find faith, find your faith, God, lose faith, lost faith, Pagan, pentagram, Post-traumatic church syndrome, Reba Riley, thirty by thirty, Wicca, wiccan, world religion

And the Award Goes to….Me!

I used to be an Evangelical Poster Child. Today, I am contending for the coveted title of Most Uninspiring Spiritual Seeker Ever! (And? If the Academy was voting this very second? I would totally win. I mean, I’d win hands-down with the most-unanimously-unanimous vote in the history of voting.) I’d be crowned Victor of Un-Inspiring-ness (and Princess of Pitiful, if I had anything to say about it, which I do not) because I have been creatively angling for the title for days.

My winning tactics for are as follows. (They are my gift to the world, and I give them freely–provided I keep the shiny statue upon my victory).

Contract staph infection which manifests in the form of a strange red walnut on your chest, otherwise known as a 3^rd (albeit alien-style) breast. Take two double-strength antibiotics twice a day for 7 days, and wait for the 3^rd boob infection to shrink. It does not.
Severely sprain ankle whilst walking home from a bar, after celebrating the completion of Husband’s 2^nd year of law school with too many shots of chocolate-whipped-vodka shots, which should not be taken with double-strength antibiotics. (Achieve this by drinking to excess, wearing heels, then staging a Hostile Sidewalk Encounter. Pain is certain to follow.)
Wearing Frog Prince Flannel pajamas, lay in bed for two full days. Sleep intermittently and read Kindle between naps.
After falling asleep while reading, roll over, effectively breaking Kindle’s screen.
Only when completely necessary (as in the case of actions your Husband cannot do for you, such as visiting the ladies room) hobble about on borrowed crutches (slightly janky but lovingly appreciated!) which feature hand-holds at different levels and a lovely green washcloth taped to (only one) armrest (for comfort!).
While staring at your bedroom (because you no longer have anything to read, except business reports, which are bor-ing and totally incompatible with pain meds) complain that your space has taken on the distinct look of an episode of Hoarders, minus the dead animals and trash. (Mostly. Dog, still being very much alive, has scattered bathroom trash amongst dirty/clean/unknown-status laundry.).
After taking brain-addling pain meds, attend bi-weekly conference call which is typically as easy as third-grade math with boss, who, during said call, morphs into a sadistic version of your college statistics professor and gives you a pop exam that you are not ready for, regarding the bor-ing reports you failed to run/read. [Note: I really do love my boss. He is a great guy and will teach me A Lot of Great Business Stuff. Eventually, when I get a warning that the Spanish Business Inquisition is coming.]
Hang up from Evil Call and dissolve into a mess of tears, which causes two-day-old mascara to run all over your face, in the manner of an angry abstract painting, but not as pretty.
On the way to the ladies room, glance in the mirror. You will see the reflection of a Winner!

At least I have four days to get my s*** together before Thirty by Thirty is over, and can still hope to achieve Inspirational Spiritual Seeker Status in the future…someday. (But, dear readers, should I become a totally famous author? Please deflate my balloon head by reminding me of this post. XOXO.)– Reba

The Power of the Pentagram: Part 1

Continued from Beltane

We fear that which we do not understand. But what causes even greater fear? That which we believe ourselves to understand.

Pentagram

The Maypole celebration ended with a ritual wherein the Priest, Priestess, May Queen and May King ceremonially offered cookies and juice to each attendee along with a Blessing. We formed a line, and one at a time went forward to receive a dual blessing: one each from the God and Goddess. I hung back a little, taking in the situation. It looked an awful lot like Holy Communion (if Holy Communion took place in the woods and was offered by people with flower crowns). Granted sprinkle cookies replaced bread, and orange drink the wine, but I couldn’t shake the similarity or decide if I wanted to ingest a Wiccan Blessing (er, Communion?).

I inched forward in the line while giving myself a silent pep-talk: There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s a Blessing Ceremony, silly, not a sacrifice! It’s just cookies and juice, baby, just cookies and juice. I flashed back to some unfamiliar things I’ve done this year (like bowing to idols and medium/psychic readings), and reminded myself that I’ve always come away with something good from every experience. Just as my fears cooled and I was up to bat, I noticed the ritual included the Priest and Priestess drawing Pentagrams on the foreheads of those being blessed, the same way a Catholic Priest would make the sign of the cross over a Christian in communion. It’s just cookies and juice, baby, go forward!

So I stepped up to receive my blessing from the Priest and as he started drawing the first line of the Pentagram on my forehead, everything in me jumped backwards, taking my body, almost unwillingly, with it. Whoa, I said, no Pentagram. I can’t handle the Pentagram. Then the Priest jumped back and almost simultaneously accused, “You the Christian? Someone said there was a Christian here!” Without thinking, I retorted, “I’m not a Christian!” (Meaning: I’m not the kind of Christian you are thinking of!), then realized what I’d said. All four of us were very worked up in a kind of energy gridlock, so it took all I had to step back up to receive the cookie minus the pentagram. The Priestess said she could give me a blessing that wouldn’t offend me, and I was all tears and sniffles and You’re not offending me! I don’t know what’s going on but I just can’t do the Pentagram!

Graciously, she blessed me with a simple hand on my head with a prayer that would be acceptable in any religion: it ended with May you never hunger…May you never thirst. Still teary, I drank the juice, while apologizing profusely for my behavior. It was all very intense, and I had to sit down to consider exactly what in the heck just happened?! I’ve done all kinds of things this year and all the sudden I back down from a Blessing? Great job, Reba, invading their Sacred Space only to ruin their ritual.

We discussed the incident later by the campfire, while the others were drumming and singing, and the both the Priest and Priestess were very kind: more concerned about the balance of my energy than my Blessing breakdown. I, however, took my perceived failure home with me. It took 3 days to sort through exactly what happened in the moment I collided headfirst with the Pentagram…then 8 more to fully process. (Eleven days for an incident that lasted maybe two minutes…like I said, it was intense!) But, eventually, I did figure things out and learn more about myself and this journey in the process.

More to come…

Tagged 30 by 30, 30x30, beltane, Faith blog, faith blogs, faith book, faith in God, find faith, find your faith, God, lose faith, losing faith in faith, losing my faith, lost faith, pentagram, Reba Riley, thirty by thirty, thirty x thirty

Eclectic Beltane: The Maypole

Continued from Pagans, Wiccans and Druids

One item of clothing I never considered church-appropriate?A poncho. But that was before I considered Nature as a Place of Worship—which it is for Pagans of all varieties (and for me, last Saturday).

O, poncho, why must you forsake me in my time of need?

Due to forecasted downpours and Wiccan weather protocol: “It might rain, and we don’t care!”, I found myself scouring closets for storm gear last Saturday before leaving for the Beltane camping celebration, held at a local state park. Whilst searching, I wondered how many religious folks would attend church if it lasted 24 hours and required rain boots? Alas, as neither poncho nor rain gear were found, I settled on heavy layers, a water-resistant jacket and old tennis shoes.

{Sidenote: My outfit was an excellent fashion choice on multiple levels! As a Champion Procrastinator of All Things Clothing, I left the task of finding a church outfit until Saturday night, 5pm, a mere 13 hours before I was to speak at King Ave. Methodist. Thus, I had to bear The Shame of mall shopping in my nature-friendly rain attire. And hell hath no fury like a women on a fashion mission, late for a Pagan party, slowed down by gaggles of teen mall-rats (where are their parents?! And why do they have to walk more slowly than an elderly man with a walker?!), then asked by a pristine saleswomen, “May I help you?” (Translation: You look like a bag lady and clearly can’t afford our clothing, but the terms of my employment dictate that I must ask if I can help you, and I don’t want to lose my job because I am still paying off my Botox!) Hmmph. “No, thank you.” Translation: I’d rather wander around aimlessly than watch you judge me! I lost some self-respect, but I found appropriate pants.}

May Crown (Better than mine, but not by much!)

Though not mall-friendly, my outfit perfectly matched the natural setting of the celebration. After being warmly welcomed campfire by the High Priest and Priestess, I found myself near the campfire, weaving Mayday crowns with a lovely Persian woman. We picked flowers to beautify the crowns, which would be placed on the heads of the May King and Queen (representing the God and Goddess) in the upcoming ritual.

When the Beltane ritual began, the group (about 15 people) formed a circle by holding hands. The Priest invited Father Sky and Mother Earth to join and bless our celebration of spring. Then the guys and gals separated to bless and crown the May King and Queen .We encircled the Queen and sent her positive energy by extending our hands to her (like a Pentecostal prayer service!). We invited the Goddess to descend upon the May Queen, and formally named her the representative of the Divine Feminine. Then we led the May Queen back to the clearing, walking two-by-two in front of her so the May King/Embodiment of the Divine Masculine couldn’t see her. It was very much like badly-dressed (but not for the weather!) bridal procession. We parted, allowing the men and the May King to see her. Collectively we walked between the fires and formed another circle around the King and Queen. They danced to the beat of a drum while the rest of us cheered/chanted along. (I was told this represented the meeting of the Divine which created the earth.)

How to thread a Maypole

Maypole

Then came the threading of the Maypole, which was super fun: I highly recommended it for anyone willing to dance about in the woods, but not recommended for anyone impaired because it does take a fair amount of concentration! Half of people (ideally all men) walk one way and the other half (ideally all women) walk the other, requiring one to dip under a ribbon every other step (which, like the limbo, gets progressively harder as the ribbons get shorter!). It’s all very symbolic of the joining of the Divine to create, and you end up with a great-looking stick!

To be continued...

I absolutely loved the Beltane celebration of Spring. This should not be a surprise: I’ve found this year that the more I fear something, the more I end up getting out of it. (Reference Hindu Diwali and Native American Sweatlodge experiences).Everyone was so nice and very welcoming, and everything we did was very natural and enjoyable… so I felt extra bad about being afraid of witches (last post)… until about five minutes post-Maypole, when I collided headfirst with a Pentagram.

Tagged 30 by 30, 30x30, beltane, blog faith, Christian, faith, faith & theology, Faith blog, Pagan, Reba Riley, recovering christian, the major religions, thirty by thirty, thirty x thirty, what is faith, Wicca

Pagans, Wiccans and Druids…Oh My! [Amended]

Today, I revel with the Pagans, Wiccans and Druids. Tomorrow, I testify at the King Ave. Methodist Church. Welcome to my life.

[Post ammendment and disclaimer as of 5/1/12: I have been sufficiently raked over the coals for this post, so I apologize for its unintended offense. My point was, and is, to make fun of my own [unfounded] fears, which were hardwired through a lifetime of being brought up as an evangelical Christian. Please note the actual point of this post in a paragraph below which is…”My issues offer a prime example of the power of stereotypes, especially of things we don’t understand, which is all the more reason to push down my fears and head to the campground. Experience is the first step to understanding, and understanding is vital to tolerance“. My next post will be dealing with my actual experience. Here is a link to a blanced view of Beltane as explained on Witchvox http://www.witchvox.com/va/dt_va.html?a=usma&c=holidays&id=2765. One other note: I am not the only person who holds misunderstanding and/or fears of alternative religions. I just happen to be someone who is actively trying to chance my perceptions. So, Please honor that if you can. Most people never take the time to A) realize they have an unfounded issue and B)do something about it.)

Confession time: I am afraid of Witches, even good ones, excepting, of course, Glenda from the Wizard of Oz.( I envy her pink dress…and who wouldn’t want to disappear into a sparkly fairy dust?!)

I also fear today’s celebration of the Pagan high holiday Beltane, a two-day camping celebration of Spring . (I will not be camping. There is a limit to my spiritual adventuring; spending all night in dark woods with Witches and Druids is it.) Intellectually, I realize today’s activities are more likely to include dancing and laughter than dark cloaks and animal sacrifice, but emotionally I’m imagining all manner of Dark Rites. Every witchy image I’ve ever encountered is flooding my mind, from Disney’s Ursula to Stonehenge to several entirely-unsuitable-for-children books I read at age ten detailing Christian encounters with “real” witches (who used their powers to throw them across the room and channel demons). [A nod to my own upbringing. NOT PAGANS]

[How did I obtain said books? They were lurking about the house. Every good charismatic Christian needs to Know thy Enemy in order to properly prepare defenses against said enemy!!! Sidenote: I never feared ghosts or monsters as a child. I had real things to worry about, like demons! And Satan! And being Left Behind in the Rapture!]

This photo is representative of my own childhood. NOT the Pagans, Wiccans or Druids beliefs.

My recent exchanges with Wiccan Priestess fanned my fears due to a suspect warning at the bottom of her emails: NOTE FROM WITCHVOX: This email was sent to you via a secured email form at the Witches’ Voice – www.witchvox.com —-As with any contact in cyberspace we encourage you to use wisdom and caution in your dealings with strangers – Witchvox Staff. Question: Was this disclaimer added as a legal defense in case someone’s eyeballs end up in a cauldron? Shiver. [KIDDING!] Also, due to my Pagan research, cyberspace apparently thinks I’ve already turned into a Witch: Google is helpfully advertising sites to purchase magic spells, wiccan spells, and witchcraft spells…now, if only I could find my pointy hat and broomstick…! [KIDDING!}

[5/1 Please note the point of this post below:]

I realize this really isn’t fair to the nice folks I’m sure to meet today because they constantly fight against the evil stereotype of witches. The vast majority use Nature to perform good Magic, and Pagan gods and goddesses are surely as harmless as all the others I’ve encountered this year. My issues offer a prime example of the power of stereotypes, especially of things we don’t understand, which is all the more reason to push down my fears and head to the campground. Experience is the first step to understanding, and understanding is vital to tolerance, so… watch out, here I come!

I’ll let you know how it goes, provided my typing fingers don’t end up in a potion. Just kidding.

PS: My buddy Andrew Bowen was Wiccan for a month. Check out his Project Conversion for excellent viewpoints on the subject.

Tagged 30 by 30, 30x30, Christian, druid, faith, faith God, Pagan, Reba Riley, thirty by thirty, Wicca, wiccan, witch, witchcraft, world religion

Itsipi (Sweat Lodge) Ceremony

In the course of Thirty by Thirty, I’ve jumped headfirst into many an uncomfortable situation. But never have I been ACTUALLY afraid, nor reduced to shaking, anxious tears in my car until yesterday, directly before the Nemenhah Itsipi Sweat Lodge Ceremony. In entering the lodge, I would be piling into a tiny space with twenty strangers, plunging into darkness and nearly unbearable heat, and thereby be facing several major fears: claustrophobia, severe heat/bodily pain, darkness AND the unknown. (Points of reference: I once had a panic attack in a small, crowded airplane, and I’ve nearly passed out in hot yoga class.)

Now. With 33 experiences and a thirty-day fast behind me, you’d think I’d be ready. Courageous. Able to face any challenge! And you? Would be wrong. Because I was a sniveling mess: cry-dialing my husband, my mother and my best friend for a pep talk (none of whom answered). So, it was between me and God in the car: with the choice to peal outta there, tires squealing… or face my fears and see what the Great Spirit had to say in the Sweat.

So, I dried my eyes and listened. And I could almost hear the Divine sigh. After this entire year, do you not believe I can sustain you through a little heat? Ok, Ok, I get it. Come to the end of myself (again). Blah,blah,blah. See how You miraculously work. Blah, blah, blah. Ugh! For a person of faith, I certainly lack it and am often in need of a Major Spiritual Attitude Adjustment(MSAA).Which I received… approximately five minutes after slamming the car door and marching my scared self straight towards that lodge.

[To explain MSAA Part 1 , I need to back up and explain this: On Day 29 of my fast, I had a revelation of truth...as a disco ball. (I know, I know, a Divine Disco Ball is a total cliché of the type of vision incited by severe hunger.) In reality, the picture was more like a prism, so not quite so dance-club chic. But for ease of use, I've been explaining this to people as a Disco Ball because it's easier to understand. Here's the short version: God is bigger than any one of us can see, because we only view one facet of Spirit (represented by each little mirror), based on all kinds of factors: birth, family, history, experiences, etc. So what we see? It's all valid truth...for us. But it isn't the full picture.]

So. I round the corner, and what, pray tell, is sitting on the Chief’s blanket-altar? A little DISCO BALL. I could hear the Divine laughter. After this entire year, do you not believe I can sustain you through a little heat? So I laughed too, out loud, and all my fear fled. When I told the Chief my story, and he tossed me the Disco Ball. It’s yours.

Then…the Divine laughter got louder. Because another Chief/Shaman showed up, laid out his blanket altar right next to me, and my mouth dropped open.

[To explain MSAA Part 2, I need to back up and explain this: Last month, I was led through a Native American meditation to find my spirit guide. And in my mediation this guy with long, flowing, silver hair, nearly to his waist, standing in a field: I am here to teach you to heal.]

I’ve been confused, because I haven’t seen him again….until yesterday, in the field outside the Sweat Lodge. Because The Chief? He was totally guy with the hair–a dead ringer. Except, I observed to him after relating my meditation, his hair was a lot shorter now. And he laughed: I just cut my hair…it was to my waist.

Of all the foreign (to me) traditions I have experienced this year, I identify most with the Nemenhah. The sweat called to me; it pulled me; it changed me. So…I was supposed to be there yesterday; it was completely incredible. (All of the above was in the first half hour! I hadn’t even crawled into the Lodge yet!)

So the moral for me, which has been a continuing theme this year, is:

The more afraid you are to do something you are called to do, and the more you don’t want to do it—read those emotions as a flashing, neon sign from the Divine–You need this more than anything else. Do it.

(Note: There is absolutely NO reason to be afraid of a Sweat Lodge as long as it is conducted by experienced spiritual leaders who understand the primary importance of health: physical, mental, emotional and, of course, spiritual.)

–Reba

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Tagged 30 by 30, 30x30, blog faith, divine disco ball, faith, faith & theology, Faith blog, faith blogs, faith book, faith God, faith in God, find faith, great spirit, iggy garcia, itsipi, losing faith in faith, native american, nemenhah, recovering christian, the major religions, washington post on faith

Thirty+ Visits Complete!

With accidental start and end dates of Pentecost Sunday (’11) and Easter Sunday (’12), I have successfully completed my 30+ visits.But…I’m not done yet! The completed are, in no particular order:

1.Living Word Church (my childhood church) 2. King Ave Methodist (GLBTQ Reconciling) 3. Lake Erie Drive-in 4. Buddhist Temple 5.Pentecostal Mega-church 6.Baptist 7.African-American Baptist 8.Movie Theater Rock 9.Hindu Temple 10.Synagogue 11.Roman Catholic 12. Eastern Orthodox 13.Vineyard 14.Jehovah’s Witness 15.Mormon 16.Atheist 17.Stadium 18.Christian Spiritualist 19.Emergent Independent 20.Quaker 21.Hare Krishna 22.Scientology 23.Unitarian 24.Baha’i 25. Storefront Redeemed 26.Christian Science 27. Stone Village 28.Sikh 29.Naturalist 30.Taize 31. Vertias (church of the boot camp) 32. Seventh Day Adventist

(Note: My blog checklist is typically behind because I have to rely on my web programmer to change it.)

I was heavy on the Christian churches, especially in the beginning, so I am doubling back to attend a few originally on the list and several additions before the 5/15 deadline:

–Native American–Amish–Pagan and/or Wiccan–Kabbalah–Mosque

Though I’ve not had luck locating the following in my area, I am still interested in:

–Zoroastrianism–Tao–Sufi–Xenos–African/tribal–Voodou–Virtual–Rastafaria–Gnostic–Jainism–Confusionism–Shinto–New Thought–Polytheistic (any culture, but particularly Celtic)–Shamanism–Snake-handlers

With continual help from the Spirit, I’ve gone from Post-traumatic Church Syndrome (barely being able to enter a church) to being able, and excited, to attend places of worship of all faiths and even non-faiths. I’ve also completed a Thirty-Day fast, studied Ancient Christian and Buddhist meditation, read extensively on multiple religions, sorted out my own beliefs, found a faith I can believe in, known and seen my God, changed my career, discovered my ministry and calling, started this blog–thanks to the good advice of someone wise, written nearly 100,000 words for the book (probably only 10,000 that are any good!), survived three bootcamps & changed my body in the process, (surprise!) found a church, and much, much more. But these are stories and conclusions for other days! I still have much more to write about. So, let the quest and the blog continue

I nearly quit Thirty by Thirty at least a dozen times. So…for all those who have followed and encouraged this journey…thank you! For those who have criticized it…thank you as well. Everyone who has touched this path has helped it toward completion. I’m not done yet. And probably never will be!

All my love–Reba

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Tagged 30 by 30, 30x30, Bible, blog faith, buddhist meditation, Christian, christian spiritualism, christian spiritualist, christian spiritualists, faith, faith & theology, Faith blog, faith book, faith God, faith in God, find faith, Reba Riley, what is faith

One (Easter) Sikh Sunday

Last Easter, I never imagined I would spend the following Resurrection holiday with the Sikhs, decked out in Indian dress instead of my Sunday best. But due to a looming Thirty by Thirty deadline on 5/15, I needed to cross Sikhism off the list more than attend a service of the Cross. So, off I went to the Sikh temple, grumbling about trading padded pews for floor-sitting, and cantatas for confusion. And Confused I was… quickly discovering that I totally suck at being Sikh.

How I Suck at Sikh, Exhibit 1: Language. While fluent in most dialects of Christianese, my knowledge of Indian languages is, ahem,lacking. Or non-existent. And the few words I do know? Like, for food? Naan,ghee,lassi), do not an appearance make in the Guru Grath Sahib (the Sikh’s First Holy Scripture). Nor do they figure in Mr. Esteemed Turban Man’s attempts to direct me through temple customs. (Which is how I ended up: A) trying to ritually wash my face instead of, correctly, my hands and B.) seated on the men’s side of the temple on a bench reserved for the elderly C.) listening to The Reading of Sikh Scripture for a full 90 minutes before realizing I didn’t have to stay in there the whole time and D.) Failing to bring cash or an offering to the altar and E.) Turning my back on the altar…a big no-no. Ooops.)

Exhibt 2: Timing. As I’ve discovered with other Eastern religions, time is a fluid concept. People show up when they feel like it, often over the period of an entire day, wandering in and out of the Temple to eat, chat and eat again. But I smartly managed to forget this fun fact when I showed up, ready to worship, or whatever, ten minutes before Sukhmani Sahib paath (service) start time. I was the only person in the Temple, save the Granthi (religious leader reading from Scripture) and a monk-like figure in the far corner.

Exhibit 3: Dress. Once the ladies did start arriving, I realized I should have made another trip to the Sari store. At least I knew to bring my scarf. But being white wasn’t the only reason I stood out…I looked pretty awful compared to their lovely traditional dress. All the colors of Easter eggs were represented,along with sparkles, beading and bells. And what was I wearing? Black.

Exhibit 4: Food. Eating or Langar (translation: free kitchen) is integral to Sikh services. Not only do they feed their congregation, they feed everyone who shows up. The problem? Smelling authentic Indian food before noon kind of turns my stomach. (No offense to the cooks intended.) Further, I somehow ended up seated at the kid’s table. And even the kids didn’t talk to me.

I realized I should just give up and go home. Not only did I feel bored and excluded, I was disappointed in all my inadvertently bad behavior. How do I manage to suck so badly when I’ve been at this foreign religion thing for 11 months??? But, right before I was about to dump my plate in desperation, my salvation appeared: a vision in purple dress, the English-speaking Temple President rescued me from certain failure.She took me under her gauzy wing, and I spent the following hours being introduced as “The author from Ohio State!” (which wasn’t quite right but I didn’t correct her). She talked and translated and embraced the “courageousness of my journey!” (also not quite right, since I nearly ran away before she showed up, but I didn’t correct her). She explained the religion to me, giving life to the stories and customs I had researched in advance. Her faith was so strong, and her temple work so tireless, that it gave me chills to hear her recount the tenants of Sikhism.

“There is only One God, the Creator of the Light. And we all worship Him no matter our faith, whether we know it or not…Being a Sikh is about freedom and equality: in gender, in religion, in race, in caste…we are all equal in the eyes of God. Which is why we all sit on the floor when we eat. Even me, especially me, because I am President here, it is most important that I sit equally, as a servant…remember in your journey equality, and do your interfaith work. Because it needs to be done, it must be done. People need to hear the message that we are all one.”

As I hugged her and others goodbye, I realized from her words that despite all my exhibits to the contrary, she didn’t think I sucked at being Sikh for a day. And who am I to argue with the President?

On my way out the door, she wished me, ”Happy Easter!” And it was.

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FAQ on my Thirty Day Fast

I’d like to address a few of the questions I’ve received on my recent Thirty Day fast:

So…what did you eat? Nothing. I didn’t chew for 30 days, nor did I drink alcohol. I also tried to limit medications. I did take in copious amounts of vitamins, lots of juice (organic if possible), and sugar-free protein on workout days. (Yes, I still did boot camp.)

Isn’t that UNHEALTHY? Well, not for me. Obviously I’m here, I’m fine and, it could be argued, in better health than I have ever been. But I would like to be VERY CLEAR that an extreme fast could ABSOLUTELY be unhealthy for a given person depending on factors such as overall health, weight, lifestyle, mental state, etc. PLEASE DO NOT CONSIDER an extreme fast without A.) A very specific calling to undertake it and B.) Consulting your doctor.

Why did you choose to fast for thirty days? First, I didn’t choose to fast for 30 days. God asked me to. (There will be much more on this when I cover the fast in depth between April 15th and May 15th). A 30-day fast is something I never would have thought of, nor did I think I could do it. I was called to fast in December, and it took me nearly three months of wrestling with the concept and telling God there was NO WAY I could possibly ever do that before I surrendered and… just did it. Once I got towards the end, I wanted to do 40 days, but that was made impossible by a pre-planned family vacation.

How much weight did you lose? It is inconsequential….that was NOT the point. This was purely spiritual venture. I like to say some of the excess weight enabled me to complete the fast, but it was in no way a diet attempt. There isn’t enough willpower in my world.

Why did you stop blogging during the fast? Part of the reason fasting, especially long-term fasting, is spiritually effective is because it clears out your life of everything that isn’t entirely necessary. Due to the vast physical, mental, emotional and spiritual strain, fasting forced me to re-evaluate every activity in my life by these two questions: 1.) Is [activity] actively bringing me closer to God and/or 2.) Is [activity] absolutely necessary? In addition to ceasing blogging, I limited my activities to work, prayer, meditation, necessary household duties, spending time with my husband, and LOTS of sleeping.

Why didn’t you tell anyone? Fasting is a personal matter between you and your God. It is extremely difficult, and there is no place for the critical negativity of others. You’re already doubting yourself…you don’t need anyone else to doubt you. Also, to be brutally honest, I often thought I was going to fail. (Daily. Sometimes minute-ly.) I didn’t want to announce, “Hey, I am doing this 30-day fast!” only to say, “Hey, I quit on day 10.”

I hope that clears a few things up! Also, as mentioned, I will be writing in detail about the fast and what I learned starting on April 15th. But if you are interested in the basics of how I got through it…check out this post.

Tagged 30 by 30, 30 day fast, 30x30, Bible, blog faith, buddhist meditation, Christian, christian spiritualism, christian spiritualist, church, extreme fast, faith & theology, Faith blog, faith blogs, faith God, faith in God, fast, fasting, find faith, find your faith, God, hindu, Jesus, Reba Riley, spiritual fast, thirty by thirty, thirty day fast, world religion

Secret Project Completed: Thirty Day Fast

And now the Super-Secret Project and reason for my blog hiatus: I completed a Thirty Day total fast (no food, no alcohol) yesterday at sunset. The experience was completely incredible and entirely life-changing. Much more to come in the next month about how and why I did it, why I kept it a secret (even from family and friends!)…and what it did for me. Make no mistake: if you fast for 30 days? God shows up. For now…this is how it went… and how I got through it:

Ten percent Luck /Twenty percent Skill / Fifteen percent concentrated Power of Will / Five percent Pleasure / Fifty percent Pain /And a Hundred percent reason to Remember the Name [Lyrics Fort Minor]