Why And How I’m Religious
Read this directly on www.indi.ca.
When I was young, I remember my father as a devout atheist. But he told me to read the Bible, as the foundation to western literature. My mother is a Buddhist and she taught us breathing and took us to doze off in various temples but it never really clicked until she took me to a monastery when I was about 18. There I had visions (very simple, just colors moving with my breath) and the feeling has never really left me since. That faith is there, whether I believe in it or not. I go in and out of it, just as I’ll go in and out of this life, but God is of course constant.
In those days, I used to walk the streets of Montreal and feel what people call God, shimmering in the leaves on the trees. I got there through breathing, but then the Jews got me through eating. A Jewish friend invited me to a Shabbat dinner and it was free food (and good), so hey. I went back there many Fridays. I’d even pray with them, because whatever they were feeling, I was on the same wavelength. G-d is a word for the wordless and what it points to. And whatever they were pointing towards when we faced the wall together, I felt it too.
When we were in England I tried to find the Knanaya Christians my father-in-law comes from, but that ancient Indian Orthodox sect is too small and…
