Breakdancing, Total Recall and God.

How did I find my way to God?

Some people have spiritual awakenings. Some are just born knowing. Some fall so far they ask for a higher help. Some feel empty inside and spend a lifetime trying to fill it with a thousand things, only to learn it doesn’t work. Being brought up within a religious faith has no guaranty of finding God. An introduction may have been made but the continued relationship is up to the individual. The path to God is unique yet the destination is always the same.

I’m always questioning my beliefs, faith and what God is to me. Even more so now that I am writing about it. I couldn't put something out there that wasn’t authentic or something I haven't truly experienced. I really don’t want to write about concepts or ideas. I want to share my experience with people so that they may feel their own way to God. That’s what I have found most helpful in my journey.

It starts with a calling. This idea used to freak me out as a child. I heard it while being brought up as a Catholic. I would ask why someone had become a priest or a nun. "They’d had a calling.”, I was told. What the hell is this calling? Is it an actual voice? Who the fuck would want to be called to that? Made to live next to a church in a dull grey house. Being made to wear a very uncool and uncomfortable uniform and they never look happy. Having to drive a boring car because that's all the church would allow. Having to give a boring mass every Sunday. Sod that, my younger self would say. No breakdancing, no flashy cars, no escape from the dullness. I don’t want God to call me. No thank you.

As you can tell from my use of words I wasn’t that happy with this God thing as an 8 year old.

That was how the Catholic church looked to me. Dull, lifeless and no fun at all. No room for any enjoyment as far as I could see. On the outside of this the parishioners seemed to be having a bit more fun. Once they had done the boring bit of attending mass, a mainly Irish crowd would descend upon the Catholic club next door. I would hang out with all my mates, playing run-outs in the car park with the occasional refreshment break. A bottle of Appletise and a packet of crisps. This was the only up side to attending mass on a Sunday. This all came to a halt when my Mum and Dad got divorced. The church doesn’t like that. So I no longer had to attend mass. To me this was the blessing. God had finally done me a favour. I still went to Catholic schools but no longer really had to participate. Friends continued on this robotic path to some sort of spiritual life. They would go on to be confirmed. Continue to attend mass and when they hit a certain age the pay off was they could now have an alcoholic drink instead of an Appletise. In all my time of attending a Catholic school and hanging out with all my Catholic friends I can’t remember a single conversation with them about God.

There was only one experience that I can say I felt God through this religious container. In my teens some of my friends and I started messing around with recreational drugs, mainly acid and ecstasy. Why I chose to do this made more sense later in my life.

I had two best friends at the time. One of my best friends started experimenting more with acid. I had tried acid but I always preferred ecstasy. Also, interesting I chose that particular drug at the time to self medicate. He began bringing up larger topics in conversation; God, the meaning of life and why we are here. I would only listen so much before I would feel uncomfortable and take the piss. A part of me was also interested in these subjects but trying to be cool and doing drugs didn’t include God.

My friend that was experiencing these feelings of God started to distance himself from us. He'd found other friends with a greater interest in acid and grander topics. He was still one of my best mates. A catholic friend, an old friend, a trusted friend. I wasn’t sure about his new friends. We would still see each other but not as much. I was a bit of a shit back then. I was a bit lost and trying to find my place in life. I looked down on his new friends and the clubs he would attend. They weren’t cool enough for me and my new ecstasy taking friends. I was obviously trying to be something else at this time in my life and many times since. We can play a hell of a lot of roles to hide from our pain.

One day I got a call from this friend. He invited my other best friend and me to the pictures. It felt odd from the moment he asked. I quickly called my other friend who was also invited and he had felt the same thing. Our friend wanted to see us for a reason? He picked my friend up first and then me. We drove to the cinema and we could feel something was different. He let on that he had something to share. We jumped straight to, “Are you gay? You’re not becoming a priest are you?”. He turned to look at us with this last question.

When we arrived at the cinema we just sat in the car. He switched the engine off and turned to tell us his secret. "Yes, I’m becoming a priest.".

The conversation that followed is still very clear to me. What I felt that evening was not like anything I’d felt before. My friend would usually have a slight stutter or stammer, more out of a lack of confidence and shyness, not an actual affliction. This evening he spoke clearly and with purpose. Confidence just flowed through him. It was so unusual to see him like this. This drew us in even more. He went on to explain how he had seen the Holy Mary one night at the foot of his bed. She had spoken to him. Clear as day standing there glowing in her blue garments. As this was during the period he was experimenting with acid he chalked it up to a side effect. He did believe in it at the time but just couldn’t go all in. Weeks later he passed a church in East London and had an actual calling. An actual, actual calling. He heard the words “Come inside, Come inside”. Again he ignored this for several weeks but every time he passed this particular church he heard the same voice inviting him in. He eventually went in and met a priest called John.

Our friend had mentioned John to us before. This is where the idea that our friend may have been gay came from. These meetings with his new older friend called John just seemed odd to us. Now it made more sense. My friend explained to Father John about his experience of Mary and the voices he had heard. Father John had had a similar experience. Maybe this is why my friend was called to this particular church. After several months meeting up with Father John my friend decided to start his training as a priest. He was told to just live his life as it was. He was encouraged to carry on as normal. Relationships, friends and going out. They wanted to know if he was really experienced in life enough to make the decision to become a priest. The story was so compelling. The flow of energy was palpable. I couldn’t help but be engaged. I felt part of something bigger than myself. He went on to tell us how he could see light in people. He could see different colours and knew which were good and which were bad. I was in. This was great. This was exciting. I asked what he could see in me? He told me there was a darkness in me and I was on a dark path. Now I was out. Regardless of my outright rejection of this at the time, I could feel he was telling the truth. It took me many years before I would admit to myself he was right. The conversation went on and regardless of his view on me I could feel an energy that I’d never experienced before. We asked plenty more questions and my friend answered them all with honesty and calmness.

As the conversation wound down we left the car and went to see the film (Total Recall, the original. Interesting title). I was elated. I felt big, strong and untouchable. As I bought my ticket I felt larger than life and almost elevated off the floor. I had no fear of anything. I felt protected by God. It was a very strange experience. I wondered if anyone around me could feel it or notice it. On our way home this feeling slowly left me. I’m not sure watching an action film starring Arnold Schwarzenegger was the best thing to do after such an event. But that is what we did. He dropped me at my house and not much was said on that journey home. As soon as I thought my other friend had been dropped off I called him to debrief. I’d wanted to know if he’d experienced the same as me. He had. We had met and felt the Divine that evening. It was marked and all very exciting.

As quickly as this feeling had come, it went. Our friend slowly disappeared from our lives. I continued on my own path and we all grew up and apart. My friend never became a priest. He dropped out after a couple of years. I believe he still had a faith though.

This experience was profound and yet I chose to ignore it. I’d felt the presence of God but didn’t want to pursue it. I had more life learning to do. My path was not filled with the Virgin Mary, voices calling me or kind priests. Mine was a different path. It was my path.

I had a concept of God. I entertained the idea but it had no apparent practical use in my life. I was doing just fine. Yeah right. I was doing fine on the surface of things. I had money, friends and place of my own. Really I had all the things I had always wanted as a young boy and man. I was in a band playing drums. I had girlfriends intermittently. Life seemed good. It was only when things went wonky that I could finally see how unhappy I really was. The funny thing is I had always really known. The surface pleasures of my life had just managed to keep me from feeling it. Distracted from it. I only became truly lost due to a break up. Interesting it’s called a break up. It actually was a break, but in me. My first big crack. On the outside things looked the same but on the inside I was deeply unhappy. I just hadn’t admitted it yet. The sadness inside was becoming more obvious and the running away from it wasn’t working any more. The surface pleasures no longer kept my head above the deeper water. Pain was the start of my process. What had once brought me comfort no longer did. I could see how shallow it all was. There was no sudden unexpected breakthrough, no epiphany, no miraculous awakening that showed me the truth. It was just a slow process of revealing. Learning about myself. In time the idea of no God become more ridiculous. This just happened naturally the more I engaged in life. I started to feel God in so many things. It’s been like that ever since. When I’ve used my mind to find God I can become lost again. I’ve looked for God in many places and they all seem to lead back to me. To my practice. The more I questioned the more the answers became clear. I’m finding my way to God because I can’t explain that there isn’t a God. This does leave me with doubts as I’m coming from not knowing God. I almost feel like I’m cheating as I’m saying I don’t believe there isn’t a God. When I truly let myself fall into this feeling and trust that I know what I’m doing, I do know the truth and God knows me. It’s there, God is there. Always waiting. Just waiting for me to be present with him (the word that feels most natural to me). It comes down to trust. I know I’m not there yet. I have to let go of me.

Once a year I used to attend a talk by Neil Kramer, held in upstate NY. Great events, lots of wisdom and information shared. Neil would maybe talk for 8 hours or so over the course of the weekend. So a lot of information to absorb. Out of all that information one of the images that Neil shared has stuck with me. Lots of other things have but this one keeps coming back. It was an image of Winnie the Pooh and Piglet sitting on a log with their backs to us. I’m paraphrasing but It went something like this…

Winnie the Pooh: “Piglet, would you like to fly to the moon with me?”

Piglet: “When are we leaving?”

It’s just so beautiful, painfully beautiful. Just sit with that for a moment.

No question of how. No idea of whether it was possible or not. Just a let's go…

We have so much resistance to things. I have so much resistance to things. Through this simple cartoon I could see my reluctance to truly surrender to the idea of God. This came many years after the actual talk where it was shared.

Lately I’ve been asking myself…

“What am I afraid of?”

”What have I got to loose?”

My ongoing experience is leading me to believe… Nothing

Now I just want to fall into this trust.

My experience is my own. It’s been a good one and I can honestly say that my life has become richer because of my belief in God. It became a totally different life. Is it easier? It is but it has also seemed more difficult. To let go of the concept of yourself is hard. The best way to describe it is the reward is always greater than the supposed pain. Hard choices need to be made. My most painful moments are now my best. I can feel the results. To try and seek truth in all moments, to ask to see the miracle feels good. Am I in this state or place all the time? No, but I know where it resides.

My childhood experiences and view of God still have a residual effect on me. I have a difficulty surrendering. I’m not very trusting and I like proof. More often than not I do get proof. So you would think this would speed up the process. I’m starting to think I must be comfortable inching my way to God. Even in writing this I was shown a different perspective that feels very timely.

I always add a picture to go along with my writing. So while contemplating what would work I thought of that old grey church I use to attend as a child. As I’m currently not too far away from the church I decided to pay it a visit and take some pictures. I was thinking the pictures would show you how grey and dull the place was. Proof that I was right. When I arrived the sun suddenly came out and the priests house looked beautiful. Not grey at all. Sandy coloured York stone. The church was undergoing building work. So I didn’t want to walk around without permission. Also a part of me knew I was going to talk with a priest that day. I knocked on the priests house to ask if I could try and get some pictures. The door was answered by a smiling and very friendly priest. He invited me in for a cup of tea and was happy to give me a tour. He introduced himself as Dominic. Old habits die hard as I immediately referred to him as Father Dominic. I’d been in this house over 40 years ago. What my 8 year old self had remembered was not entirely true. It was now inviting, bright and welcoming. I’d happily live there today. Yeah sure it had been updated, decorated and the garden was better kept but it was probably always this nice. I had a great conversation with Father Dominic and a tour. I was invited back when all the building work was finished. I also told him I would send him a link to this blog. I did warn him that it didn’t really put the church in a great light and when I explained it was how my 8 year old self had seen it he just laughed. So many interesting things happened that day. Lots of perspectives and views changed. Old memories rewritten or at least understood. The fact the church was still under construction also gave me a little smile. Not quite ready yet.

It was nice to see how my feelings on God had evolved. How comfortable I was talking about God with a priest. How easy it feels in my life these days. I don’t know if Father Dominic breakdances now or has done in the past but he was full of life, not dull and grey and he looked great in a dog collar. God does love me and I think he gets a lot of enjoyment out of showing me what I’m too stubborn to see sometimes.

My personal calling has been a very quiet one or maybe I was just too loud. I’ve had to learn to be silent to hear. We are all called, I truly believe this. Not just priests and nuns. I always had a calling, a draw to the unseen. Bigger questions to ask. We just have to quieten ourselves down to hear, to see, to feel and eventually to know.

So when are we leaving?

MC