Blind Faith

 

It's no secret that I've been lost as of late.  It's getting the point where I barely know who I am, let alone what my purpose in life is anymore.  These days, I live in perpetual sorrow.  Distressed about where I am, who I am, and what is to become of me. I am, for lack of a better term, lost.

Last Sunday our family gathered at my mom's to have an Easter weekend feast.  My mom made a delicious spread, complete with a roast, mashed potatoes and veggies.  It was an amazing meal.  Afterward, as the grown ups were seated around the table, my sister began reading from an app on her phone, regarding numbers and their numerological meanings.

Overzealous as always, my youngest nephew was spouting off numbers faster than my sister could read out their meanings.  Finally, I had a chance to inquire about the number sequence that I continually see, to this day.

The number I always see, is 1129.  I'll see it in books.  On the digital clock at my bedside.  Out in the world.  Randomly, at different times, I'll glance over at something and I'll see the number 1129.  I was born on November 29th, 11-29, which makes the number stand out even more.

I've always held the day in the highest regard, celebrating it's existence more so than Christmas, even.  It's rarely a celebration of my birth, but to commemorate the day.  I've never worked on the day, not even attending school as a kid.  It's just something I've never done.  Well.., actually.  I did, in fact, work on my birthday once, but it was SO disastrous and unlucky, that I've never done it again, to this day.

So when asked, my sister began to tell me that 1129 is an Angel Number.  That angels work in mysterious ways and while they won't come right out and show themselves to us, they will hide hidden meanings in numbers.  She began telling me that I needed to be more charitable.  That I should be donating time and money to deserving causes.  She also said that I needed to get in touch with my spirituality.  That it was necessary for me to get right with God and that God would show me the path that I was destined to be on and that then I would feel happy and fulfilled.

My sister is not a religious person.  I don't know what, exactly, her position is on God and church and all that stuff.  I know my stance on the whole religious situation and it's not good.  My sister, though, has always had a foot into the, I don't what to call it, the New Age thing.  She's always had an interest in reading Tarot cards and mystical shit like that.  I remember one time, she had divining rods, which she claimed could answer simple yes and no questions.  One time, when I was visiting her at work, she had me try these divining rods. Relaxing the rods in my closed fists, as she'd instructed, I began to ask general questions and to my surprise, the rods would move.  Crossing each other for 'yes' and further apart for 'no'.  The reason this memory sticks out, is I inquired as to whether or not I'd rekindle a friendship with someone who'd had a falling out with me, through a misunderstanding.  The rods crossed, indicating 'yes' and to my surprise, a short while later, that friend did, in fact, reach out to me and our friendship resumed.  Though in recent years, we've drifted apart, somewhat, but still keep in touch.

Another time, my sister was reading her Tarot cards for a friend and learned that her friend's husband was being unfaithful.  I believed this assumption to be dangerous, as I have some doubts in the legitimacy of this practice, but low and behold, the man was stepping out on his wife, and subsequently, the two divorced.  While still a dangerous assumption, it did pan out.  A result that I, undeniably, had to acknowledge.  That is why when my sister begins explaining to me the meaning behind why I keep seeing that sequence of numbers, I have to believe her to some degree.  Especially considering that I have been curious about religion, recently.

I see on TV and in movies and with people all around me, this blind faith in a higher power.  An invisible force that guides people through the labyrinth of their lives.  I see that and admittedly, I want that.  I can't help but think that if I put my trust in a higher power, that maybe my life will have some purpose.  A reason for my existence.  I recall, during a particularly dark moment, thinking to myself, "I wish I could believe."  I envy those who can dedicate their lives to following the gospel.

I can't believe in an invisible man who lives in the clouds.  Especially, one who simply calls himself "God", as it seems egocentric.  I can't put my faith in something I cannot see with my own eyes.  That being said, I do believe in oxygen.  It is what helps us breath and it's something I cannot see.  I believe in gravity.  I can't see it, but I've fallen down enough times to know that it exists.  I can't see the electricity that runs through my house, but I know that when I flip a switch or plug something into the wall, a light will come on or the device will operate.  So using that logic, I can't help but wonder...?  Just because I can't see something, does it mean it doesn't actually exist?

I've put my faith in people before and have been burned.  So perhaps I'm jaded.  Or perhaps, because human beings are fallible and prone to contamination, that I'm putting my trust in the wrong things or people.

Years ago, I attended a Christian Counselling Group, to combat anger issues.  I chose that space, not because of any faith in a higher power, but because I could pay them whatever I could afford, rather than the inflated prices that similar counselling would cost.  Through reading passages from the bible, I was able to come to certain conclusions and manage my anger more proficiently.  I've long since forgotten what those principles are, but my anger issues have not come back to the violent levels they once were.  So remembering that aspect of the experience, I can't help but wonder if I were to return to such counselling, if my issues with depression and anxiety would be remedied..?

I have not seen my 1129 in awhile.  Not since before this funk settled in on my life, which makes me wonder.  Did the angels give up on me?  Very much in the way I feel everything has given up on me?  These thoughts just reminded me of that passage: Footprints.  Where the person accuses God of deserting him at his most troublesome times, and God responds by saying that He had lifted him up and carried him through those troubled times.  It really gives a sceptic, like me, something to think about. 🤔

Out With A Bang, In With An OUCH!!

The beginning of 2013 had me fighting a bad case of pneumonia, followed by a few months of worry and concern, with return visits for X rays and CT Scans, following the progress of, what was described to me as a "black mass" on my lung.  That turned out to not be as serious as was initially believed. (Phew!)  Then the last half of December, I found myself sick, again, which I eventually found myself battling an excruciating bout of pneumonia, once again.  That fight took up most (if not all) of my two week shutdown break from work.  Yay!  At least the weather was shitty and cold, so I never had much need (or desire) to leave the comforts of my house.

January 2nd, 2014, was my first day back to work.  While I didn't feel a 100%, I did feel (or so I thought) well enough to return to work.  I knew that there'd be at least a couple of people still gone with extended vacations, but we were down four in actuality.  I managed to muscle through my Thursday, but with a badgering cough that was fueling an exasperating headache.  With every frenzied cough attack, the world would fade through my eyes and the painful pounding would commence.  Thankfully, it being the first day back, my job wasn't too strenuous and was easily manageable, despite the discomfort.

The fight never ceased after the final bell rang and it was home time.  I came home to a snowy driveway, packed with hardened snow that I foolishly took a stab at clearing.  The hard packed snow had accumulated a few days prior, so much so that it blocked my front door, which caused the bottom of the door to bend and tear away, upon my exit on Tuesday.  (Great!  More expense out of pocket.)  The temperature had warmed up significantly, but not enough to avoid heavy breathing.  With my asthma, I find that the cooler temperatures really have an adverse effect on me.  Especially since the discovery of the "black mass" on my lung.  Earlier in the season, with the dropping Mercury, I found my breathing to be difficult and laboured, at best.  This is something that the specialist relayed to me as the norm for the remainder of my days.  (I really gotta win that lottery, so I can retire to Texas or Arizona.  Or maybe New Zealand.  That place looks like it could be kinda cool..., except for all the god damned Orcs.)

Thursday night and Friday morning was disturbing.  It seemed for every thirty minute to hour patch of sleep, I'd be woken up abruptly with a coughing frenzy.  Even in the darkness of my bedroom, with my head pounding hard, my surroundings seemed to fade from my view.  Reluctantly, I contacted my employer in the morning, notifying that I regretfully would not be coming into work.  I hate leaving them in a lurch like that, despite my boss thinking that I do.  I went back to sleep for (thankfully) a very restful hour, before I got up and drove myself to the hospital.  This is something that I really should have addressed over my break, but I had my pal's van while he and his family were on vacay in Florida and I didn't want them to come home to needing to be taxied to my house to pick up their van.  However, I do think that if I'd had addressed my illness in a more timely fashion, my current predicament could've been avoided, possibly.

I was hooked up to a nebulizer, where medication was administered into my lungs.  "Breath deeply." I was instructed by the wee little blonde nurse.  On completion of that, I was ushered to the X ray department to get an X ray done, then ushered back after that.

The beginning of 2013, I fought a terrific case of pneumonia.  The end of 2013 had me fighting the worst bout of pneumonia (or any sickness I've ever experienced, including Swine Flu in 2009), and now, I'm barely ankle deep into 2014, and I'm forced to fight a f*cking lung infection??

I don't subscribe to any sort of religion and you'll never see me crouching at my bedside with hands clenched, praying for this or that, but in case I'm terribly mistaken, if there is a God, he'd better bless me with a substantial lottery win pretty f*ckin' soon.  I've paid more than my fair share of dues in this shitty life of mine.  I deserve a god damned break.  This inability to breath, bullshit, is just that.  Bullshit!!

Are You Kidding Me? There Can Only Be One.

In doing some light reading, I've come to learn that before Christianity swept over the land, however many ions ago that was, one of the dominant religions was known as Ásatrú.  Asatru (Icelandic, "Æsir faith") has been highlighted, as of late, in the Marvel Comic theatrical releases of the superhero THOR.  Although the religion itself, whose actual founding date seems to pre-date any known calendar, was all but obliterated from the annuls of time, has been steadily been revived (and returning to popularity) since the 1970s.

Ásatrú is an Old Norse word consisting of Ása, referring to the Norse gods, and trú, which loosely translates to "troth" or "faith". Thus, Ásatrú means "religion of the Æsir."  Synonymously, terms for Asatru include Germanic Neopaganism, Germanic Heathenism, Odinism, or Heathenry.  The original, ancient form of Norse religion is usually referred to as Germanic paganism, or Norse mythology.

Those who choose to follow this religion, do so by following the teachings of (1) Odin (Germanic Woden), who is the god of magic, poetry, riches and the dead; ruler of Valhalla (Wednesday is a derivative of his name, although I wonder how he'd feel knowing that this is also known as Hump Day?);  (2) Thor, who is the sky god who wields a big hammer, able to control the weather, and enforces the law and the community (Thursday is derived from his name, and rightfully so.  If the movies are any indication, he kicks ass, just as Thursday, my wrestling day [TNA Impact - SpikeTV]).  There's also (3) Freyr, who is the fertility god, also represented with a phallic statue and seen as the founder of the Swedish royal dynasty.  (Yeah, I kinda doubt it too...); and (4) Freyja (sister to Freyr and also Odin's hot wife), fertility goddess of love and beauty and sister to Freyr, known by many names (including Frigg) and patron of families, her name is a derivative of Friday)... (TGIF).

So what is my point to all this?  I don't know.  I kind of found it fascinating.  Fascinating in the sense that although it'd replaced by bible-thumping Christianity freaks in the first have of the millennia (1st Century AD, the 4th Century AD & the 7th Century AD), that the religion been steadily making a comeback.  Ásatrú, the modern attempt to revive the old Norse faith, was founded by the Icelandic farmer Sveinbjörn Beinteinsson (1924–1993). Beinteinsson was a sheep farmer and a priest in the religion, who published a book of rímur (Icelandic rhymed epic poetry) in 1945. In 1972 he petitioned the Icelandic government to recognize the "Icelandic fellowship of Æsir faith" as a recognized religious body and it was done so in 1973.   Denmark and Norway have since followed.

There are other deities related to the faith, of course.  There's Njord, who is the father of Freyr and Freyja,  who is the god of ships, seas and lakes; Tyr (Germanic Tiu), also a derivative of Tuesday, (or as I like to call it, Cheap Night at the Movies) - god of battle, sacrifice and justice;  Ullr, the god of death, winter, and hunting.  (It's also nice to have a name to attach to the blame for all this shitty-ass cold weather we've been experiencing...); and last, but not least, Loki, who is referred to as "the trickster", but as the movie has shown us, he's also the guy with the really bad taste in head wear.  (Hee hee hee, the best part of that Avengers movie..: "Hulk Smash Loki", hilarious!  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2fVdNBGTTo).

So is this a viable religion?  To me, it seems to mirror that of the Gods of the Greek Mythology.  One God to overlook one or two things, be it the sea and lakes, or fertility among mankind, or a God for poetry and magic.  Whatever.  If Christianity has taught me anything, it's that they're lazy as f*ck, conjoining everything into one lump sum, and having one God oversee it all.  Ya wonder why your prayers go unanswered?  Because your God doesn't know how to delegate.  He's got too much shit on his plate already, therefore your desire for a new bike or for your sports team to win,  just isn't a priority.  And why are you bothering him with a request for a new bike, ya dumb shit?  As for sports teams, everyone knows that God is a Saskatchewan Roughrider (CFL).  

Is it silly to follow Odin, Thor and alike?  Sure it is!  But no more silly than following Christianity.  I know it's likely that I may catch a little fall out for making that comment, but do I really give two shits about what people who pray to an invisible man who lives in the clouds, think?  I mean, a Virgin Birth?  If anyone tried to pass that shit off, nowadays, they'd be committed to the first available rubber room, complete with a canvass jacket that ties up in the back.

However, given how the ladies all swoon and croon over that bloke, Chris Hemsworth, I think the argument for praising the Norse Gods, really is gaining popularity.  I don't see, myself.  If anyone should be crooned and swooned upon, it should be Kat Dennings.  Now there is a true Goddess.  Meeyow.