'Our Mrs. Reynolds'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Isn't prayer simply talking to your god? So if you believe in god, your prayers are the way you to communicate with the deity. If you don't believe in god, you can pray like I do, to the stars and moons and trees and rocks and things and Crosby Stills and Nash but mostly Nash because he was the nicest and cutest.
[ETA: I mean America, 'cause they sang Horse with No Name, not CS&N.]
The terms, and the specific types of though are absolutely accorded different weight and respect. But why?
Because otherwise they'd be synonyms? I think the word magic is hella messy, as long as it applies to both Jilli and David Copperfield. That could do with a lot of cleanup work. But I think myth is a valuable word, and used between agnostics to discuss contemporary beliefs--pretty much fine. Just as I don't expect brimstone Christians who bothered to think about my afterlife to refrain from mentioning my eternal torment in hellfire amongst themselves because I'm somewhere out here feeling sensitive. I absolutely expect believers to treat beliefs as truth. There are religious people who wrestle and quest with what it ultimately means, and there are some who would posit that they don't just believe God exists, they know. And that every day is proof of that. And there are some, I'm sure, who do both.
I also don't see any reason to elevate the term superstition to the same sort of respect accorded either myth or religion. It's not the same thing. Why should it be?
If you don't believe in god, you can pray like I do, to the stars and moons and tres and rocks and things and Crosby Stills and Nash but mostly Nash because he was the nicest and cutest.
With what purpose?
What was it supposed to refer to?Is like trying to exert some control, feel like there is some order to the howling, scary void that is life on this earth or the Tigers this season (or the Saints in seasons past).
I have seen religious faith sustain people through troubled times and inspire people to great things.
Sadly, I've also seen religious faith bring my mother down through troubled times. She honestly believed until she slipped into her coma that she didn't beat her ovarian cancer because she didn't pray hard enough. She died thinking that her cancer was proof that she was a bad Christian. I went through a period of really, actively hating the sections of her religion that had encouraged that sort of thinking: Godly enough person = Long, happy life. I think that's the attitude that brings the tinge of contempt to some people's concept of magical thinking, where God is supposed to be a Holy Santa Claus who will fulfill all our dreams if we just pray hard enough. I also think that picture of the Christian God is not supported in the text. The Bible says God sees every sparrow who falls. But they still fall.
What was it supposed to refer to?
Is like trying to exert some control
Okay, I can see how it could seem that way.
With what purpose?
Communicating with something bigger than I am.
Isn't prayer simply talking to your god? So if you believe in god, your prayers are the way you to communicate with the deity.
That's exactly it, java, for me anyway. The word "pretend" makes me kind of uncomfortable; for me, prayer is not pretending to exert control or pretending anything, but more like visiting with a friend/mentor/parent. Sometimes I get what feels like an answer, often not, sometimes I don't even say anything myself and it's more like two old friends hanging out in companionable silence, each puttering around and doing her own thing but happy just to be sharing space.
The word "pretend" pinged me the same way it did Teppy, and it's not at all what's going on with prayer for me. It's just talking to someone whom I'm convinced, to the best of my understanding, is really there, not just pretend. Not someone who's going to answer all the time, and definitely not always the way I want (I don't even do petitional prayer very often because it does feel like magical thinking, and also it seems rude to be pestering the creator and sustainer of the universe, who must have a very busy calendar, about why nobody will buy Deb's boots or whether or not Accounting is going to process that check request in time), but someone who does at least hear me.
You can all back away from the crazy lady now.
You can all back away from the crazy lady now.
Dude, I'm not even sure I believe in God, and I still pray. And not in a "no atheists in foxholes" way, but more in a hopeful way and because it has been helpful to me.
Who's crazy now?
Oh, Calli, that's heartbreaking. Your poor mom. What a terrible emotional burden to bear, on top of the terrifying burden of the cancer. Nobody's faith should ever, ever be teaching them that if bad things happen to them it's because they're not good enough for God to fix them. That's evil.
Gah. I want to jump in a wayback machine and hug your mom and hold her hand and slap everyone who ever drilled that poison into her.
I'm not sure I can express this right on the first try, but here goes:
I've got a bit of a stutter. I also tend to pause in odd places when I'm talking, because I don't remember to take a breath or swallow until I absolutely need to, and that often ends up being at a part of a sentence where it sounds really weird to pause. I'm better than I used to be -- when I was little, I'd sometimes pause to take a breath in the middle of a word. I at least got to the point where I remember to get to the end of a word before I breathe, and I can usually remember to wait until the end of a phrase. All of this stuff gets more difficult when I'm nervous.
When I was an undergrad, I had a few horrendous experiences where I was giving a presentation in front of a class and I could tell that my speech was getting so bad that people were having trouble understanding me, and realizing that made me more nervous, which just made everything worse. The solution I came up with was, in the hour or two before I had to give a talk, I would put on the soundtrack to Merrily We Roll Along and sing along through the entire thing. That show has all kinds of tricky phrasing and rhythms -- there is no way to sing it without thinking about where to breathe. So, by the time I got to class to give the talk, my brain and mouth had gotten into the pattern of working together and phrasing things properly, and it was much easier to talk in front of the class, since getting the breathing right had at least temporarily become sort of automatic.
Lots of times, prayer for me works the same way. Saying the prayers for the agricultural stuff over and over gets me so that, when I look at food, I automatically think about the field and the rain and the workers, rather than about the grocery store or the microwave. Saying the prayers about creation helps a bit toward getting my reaction to flowers to be, "Ooh, new life!" rather than "Ugh, pollen." And I think that I should think about the rain and the workers, and I should appreciate the flowers, and prayer is one thing that helps me do that. Some people might not care about the rain or the flowers, and that's fine. But I do care, and I like my world better when I notice those things than when I don't. Some people might have different ways of getting to that place where they appreciate it, just like I'm sure that not everybody with speech problems solves them with Sondheim. And some people might be able to just go out in the world and appreciate all those things without any preparation. I can't, just like I can't stand up and start talking clearly without any preparation. I need help, and that's one place that I get it.