Monday, March 27, 2017

I've been angry lately

... and I'm not used to being angry. I don't like it. This has been growing, and it reached a true boiling point the other day. Here's the sitch:

Back in October of last year, we moved outta our +/- Burbank apartment, into our +/- NoHo (North Hollywood) apartment. I'm classifying them both here as "+/-" because they both had/have pros & cons, and the move itself was probably a "wash" in the long run.

The new place is geographically located next to a rather large church that was under construction when we moved in. According to our upstairs neighbor, that building has been under construction for the past four years.

Lately, the construction's gone into overdrive, as the workers have been bringing the project to completion. Some days, they'd have huge trucks parked at the corners, with cranes, installing lights or cleaning windows or painting walls or whatever. The trucks have been parked in the red zone at the corners, which has made navigating into traffic a bit of a bitch.

That's not what I'm angry about. That's just a nuisance.

They started putting up signage. Oh! This "church" is going to be occupied by Scientologists! That's... interesting!

Again, not angry about the residents. Honestly, a little ambivalent about them.

Then they hung A CROSS on the front-facing exterior wall. Ah, there it is! That's my trigger!

Now, you may not know anything about my spiritual life. I may have posted vaguely in the past. You know I don't shy away from cussin', but you also know that when I feel #Blessed, I say so. So here's the backstory for you:

I grew up in the Southern Baptist denomination of Protestant Christianity. I accepted Jesus Christ as my Personal Lord and Saviour into my heart when I was 7 years old, and I was baptized by immersion on Palm Sunday of that year. I have read through two different translations of the Bible. I have tried other denominations; I have dabbled in being open to Universal Truths. I do not currently attend any particular church because I feel very strongly that "me and God are tight. I got Him here (in my heart), and if He wants me to go to any particular church, He'll tell me."

But I do feel like the cross is symbolic of Christianity, and no other "religion". So, when I saw that cross up on the side of the Shitology building, it enraged me. Every time I passed any of the new inhabitants, while they were moving in, blocking the sidewalks with their furniture trucks or whatever, I would give 'em the stink-eye. I would shout at them "you're blocking the fucking sidewalks with your damn trucks!" or something equally cussy. Even upon our return from seeing Logan, after they'd fully moved in and were simply beginning to proselytize, I randomly cussed at a random S-ist.

***This is too much anger for me to bear. It's too much anger for me to carry around. And no, I can't just "get over it", thankyouverymuch, well-meaning but ignorant neighbor upstairs. I have to talk to someone. Maybe a minister, maybe a therapist, definitely not a close friend or family member.***

... and then I was booked for a day on set again, and out of nowhere, a person I know just happened to mention a perfect segue for me to talk about all my anger issues. So we talked. He agreed that he'd feel pretty much exactly the same way I do; the cross is a symbol of Christianity, not "church". But then he was able to steer that conversation toward symbols and why we create them and "own" them, as we do. Even though he had always accepted the cross as his symbol of his own faith, it always bothered him that Christians would choose an instrument of torture to remember their Saviour. Even the empty cross is still symbolic of the way Christ died. Wouldn't we rather envision our Redemption by choosing the empty tomb instead?

I really dug where that convo led, and it gave me an instant sense of peace. He used his phone to look up "empty tomb" symbology, and I saw a necklace I really liked, and decided to get one, if it wasn't too expensive, because it could just be jewelry without screaming my faith at anyone who saw it.

... but when I got home and Stephen Googled the image, what we discovered was that the "stone" I was seeing rolled away was, in fact, brushed silver or gold, and on the reverse side were the words "He Lives". Um, no, un-unh, that's a little too "in your face", and also, not as pretty as the "stone" I thought I saw.

So I found a stone to make into the perfect piece; I just have to find a way to make it into the perfect piece. Until I do, I'll carry it in my pocket to remind me to not be angry. So far, it's working. I am #AtPeace, and I once again feel #Blessed.
it's a deep, dark blue with metallic flecks
... any jewelry makers out there?


  1. My father was a part time Christian preacher and I grew up in the church until I left home. Once I was on my own I no longer subscribed to any organized religion. I had just seen too much hypocrisy and that is a major turn off for me.
    I don't mind people believing what they want as long as you don't shove it in my face. I won't shove my non-beliefs in yours. So I get where you are coming from.
    That rock looks awesome. Years ago my wife found a rock in our flower bed that looked like a heart with several cracks in it. She gave it to me and I thought it perfectly represented my heart as it had taken some damage and was still beating. I carried that rock in my pocket for many years until one day at the beach it fell out of my shorts and I lost it. I searched the beach for days but could never find it. I finally came to the conclusion that it had served it's purpose for me and that another deserving person found it and it's now in their pocket.

    1. Yeah, when I first rebelled against organized religion, it had to do with man-made rules & the hypocrisy of the devout.

      So now I'm just a Spirit-filled meatsack who believes what I believe.

      I think you're right about what happened with your rock.


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