If Snow White had apples to share, would you take a bite?
photo credits: Google Image Search
“So, this is it?” she asks, and stands up on her tiptoes to get a better view. ” I don’t understand what’s so funny about them, Mom. They don’t look funny to me.”
Molly is seven.
How can I explain to her, why those store window mannequins just caused me to laugh hysterically?
She was born in the age of Botox, where people pluck, shave and shape everything. We, as a whole, are evolving from ape to plastic. How can I explain to her, that those plastic figures don’t resemble anything remotely human, when she is surrounded by people looking exactly like them? It takes a lot of effort to hide my tears of frustration behind laughter.
” It’s an old person’s joke, Molly. Maybe someday, you will understand.”
She gives me a quizzical look, takes my hand, and together, we stride through a world of make-believe; a world no longer human.
Written for VisDare31: Focused – 150 words or less. Grab a pen and join the fun!
photo credits: saatchionline.com
I am not religious.
I am no atheist either.
I am spiritual.
The ‘entities’ I believe in do not matter here, so I will keep them to myself.
What I do believe, is that we were all exhaled by a divine source, no matter which name it bears. Our souls – our sources of energy – are a divine gift. That’s how I see it. We all are sparks of divinity, spread throughout the universe – and I, too, believe that after our deaths, our ‘sparks’ will return to its origin… the source of all being.
The subject of God is always a touchy one – many different beliefs bump into each other when we set the table with bowls full of religion. I try to keep an open mind towards other belief systems, but on this day, I was challenged.
I witnessed a great display of faith today. Of believing in God and religion. It was marvelous in itself, yet, it was tainted… it frayed around the edges. What I am talking about here, is the connection between religion and submission. Quite a few religions demand submission to God – as a gesture of true belief.
This is where my confusion kicks in.
The Bible, for example, says, “So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.” (Genesis 1:27)
Facing religion, if we are mirror images of God, if we all inherited this divine spark, does that mean we have to submit to one another? Does that mean we have to crawl around on all fours all day and kiss the feet of hundreds of passersby in our city malls, our parks, our pedestrian areas?
It would seem so, wouldn’t it?
If we are all sprung from the same divine source or, in case of the Christian belief, ‘created in God’s image’ we should all submit to one another. It is simple logic.
Frankly, I do not understand why religion, belief and submission are connected.
Belief is something beautiful – religion and submission (in my eyes) are both tainted and corrupt.
I am sure the concepts of religion sprang from beautiful minds… from thankfulness for all the beauty in the world, from gratefulness for our own lives and experiences. How come it got so tainted throughout the decades?
Belief is beautiful.
Faith is beautiful.
Religion could be beautiful, too – if it would go back to the original version, the first idea blossoming in the first brilliant mind.
Why do our knees have to “dust the floor”, why do we have to submit to divine sources to show our appreciation and thankfulness?
Why does mankind let rules and restrictions influence its ways of believing?
Does money in the collection bag really pay for our salvation? And, if so, the more money in the bag, the better our chances to not roast on a spit in “hell”?
Do the right terms and phrases matter, when we address a divine source?
What does “holy” mean? Does it mean “divine”? And if so, if divine equals human, does “holy” really mean “human”?
Why is religion always (ALWAYS) connected to guilt?
Why does religion have to be based on the degradation, the humiliation of Self?
It all does not make sense to me.
Belief is beautiful.
Belief is pure and true.
Remove the “shackles” of submission and our modern ‘concepts’ of religion – and marvel in true belief once again.
I am sure, if we all would reflect on what we truly believe in; if we all would live up to our own beliefs, the world would certainly be a much, much better place.
What is the cost of a child’s smile?
Would you be willing to put a price tag on your child’s happiness?
I recently read Daan van den Bergh‘s marvelous guest post over at Rohan7Things (Daan’s post can be found here, I encourage you to read it).
It moved me, deeply.
How precious is it, to see a father make a ‘fool of himself’ in this fast-paced,
intolerable intolerant world, just to see his son smile?
How precious is it, to know someone doesn’t care about the frowns and spiteful words directed at them for their ‘inappropriate behavior’?
I once read an article about a little boy who loved wearing dresses. He constantly faced prejudice; endured the frowns on other parents’ faces, endured the comments of other children making fun of him. One day, the little boy’s father decided he had seen enough. He put on a skirt himself and took his little boy (dressed in a pretty purple skirt) for a walk in the city. Needless to say, they were quite the attraction. One of the city’s female residents stared so hard at them, she ran into a traffic light, head first. The little boy erupted in laughter and his dad smiled a satisfied, hidden smile.
This is what I call great parenting.
After their trip, the boy grew tremendously, as a person. He was allowed to develop a strong character, thanks to his father’s display of courage. Whenever another child tried to make fun of him for his clothing or painted nails, he just answered, “You just don’t dare doing something different because your dad doesn’t dare either.”
That’s how broad his shoulders became.
You say skirts and dresses are for females only?
A kid’s mind is a sponge – and we are role models for our youngsters, whether we are aware of it, or not.
Whatever we do or say makes an impression on them. They will adopt our prejudices, mirror our opinions. We have a great influence on their minds, while they are struggling to sculpt and form character.
What is the cost of a child’s smile?
Is your kid’s innocent happiness a price you are willing to pay, just to fit into Society?
Put on a skirt.
Behave inappropriately in public.
Ignore the frowns and malignant glances.
Witness your kid grow strong.
photo credits: erowid.org, images.fanpop.com, justjared.com
Have you ever been absent?
Not there… unfamiliar with yourself?
Have you ever looked at yourself and thought, “Who is this person that is supposed to be me?”
I used to be good at being me.
Now, I am beginning to think I lost touch.
During the week I find myself moaning, barely able to stand the weight of long work hours and appointments, longing for the weekend and some time off… and once the weekend is here, I wish to go back to work because I don’t know what to do with myself.
It is absolutely disgusting.
The nagging question is: When did this happen?
I used to be able to entertain myself.
I used to be able to just read, write… or enjoy nature. Just sitting in the grass for a while was enough – fulfilling.
Now, I look at this shell (that is supposed to be me) in the few hours of time that I have to myself on weekends and it seems like I am just
on the inside – because I feel the need to go back to being under pressure. Minutes keep dragging on, feel endless. Even while writing this, I keep thinking of ways to pass the time until it’s Monday again and I can go back to work – and hating my job. It feels like a Love/Hate -Relationship. Once I’m there, I can’t wait for it to be Friday again – to be rid of demands and ‘have-to’s’… and on the weekends, I can’t wait to get back to the stressful environment I loathe.
Has Society finally succeeded to assimilate me? Has it made me one of their mindless robots?
Perhaps not quite – or I wouldn’t be writing this.
Perhaps this is my true Self’s Last Stand.
It is a frightening feeling to discover you lost yourself.
I keep wondering when that little person inside me (the one who stands for my individuality) shut the door and resigned. I keep wondering when exactly the daily grind got the best of me… drowned me out, without me even noticing.
Can you be addicted to stress?
And even more importantly, how long can you keep it up until your body and mind surrender?
I am frightened by the lack of me within me.
I will heed this warning and work from here… hoping to find my way back.
Good Luck find me… I need it.
Why do you assume your arrival fills us with joy?
News Flash for you: most of the time, you stink.
I’d much rather be in the company of your siblings Saturday and Sunday – perhaps you could talk to them and adopt some of their character traits?
Would be much appreciated.
Please be gentle when we meet this time around. Don’t be selfish.
The One Who Doesn’t Want To Get Up Early