I feel like talking religion here is a bit like talking politics. I feel like I shouldn't reveal too much, as if I have inadvertently shown you my underwear. I voted last week in the General Election and found it a bizarrely moving and thought-provoking exercise. The polling station where I live was awash with little old ladies who'd put on their best suit to come and vote. There is something profound about it as an action, as a thing one must do. The school run that week was peppered with observations about the suffragettes and why we must vote, no matter what.
And then to religion; here I will say it: I lack faith. I suspect this is why my pessimism can become a little too much to bear at times; there is no alternative story. No outcome on which I can pin my beliefs. I look with envy at those who have religious faith, who have a place to turn to, who believe that they will be looked after. Who make that deal with themselves (or with God) that if they follow x, y, z doctrine, then they will go to heaven. The absence of heaven troubles me enormously. One of my mum's best friends lost her husband this week. He was in his eighties and had had 'a good innings', but still it feels wrong. She kept saying ' he was such a gentleman; such a good man' and I thought back to times as a child, where I was aware of his presence as a sincere and kind man, to whom I paid little real attention.
I find that the older I get, these things are more on my mind and frankly, that's a shame. I would rather be as oblivious as I was in my 20's! With age comes wisdom and with wisdom comes responsibility. I would rather like to have less of that. And so I spend my days keeping appointments and browsing the web and tidying up and trying to notice how beautiful it is here in this corner of the world. I try not to look at my phone too much. I try not to worry about all manner of things, from health to logistics to food to the future. And whether I need my roots done (yes). Most of all though I mentally tell myself to 'man up'. Strength and resilience is all!
This, I realise now, is why women my age take up yoga or triathlons. It's about distraction.
Meanwhile I long for some rhythm of life that is not dictated by their school term. How ironic that I should be looking forward to September where my life will take on an academic pace again and I will be tied by my own termly schedule. And ironic that whilst I ponder the meaning of life most days, I also fritter away time searching for the perfect pair of new kicks. And ironic that little old me, the one who thinks all the time, is married to someone who barely thinks about anything weighty at all. As in never. I have never known anyone so carefree. It's all about positive attitude! Hah!
A few months ago I downloaded a gratitude app - and I kept it for about a month - until I realised that the things I was grateful for were the same day in, day out. It started to loose its clout. I now go back and remind myself; health, love, family, comfort, security, beauty.
Ahh yes, that was it. Remember the good. Be the good. Good.