I believe in God, just not yours

Since I was very young I wanted to have faith, or a religion to belong to. I was a precocious child with a sharp sense of mortality. Every night before bed I would think about death, how one would cease to exist afterwards, and how in the vast universe, my self, my consciousness would be lost, a "being unrecoverable". This emptiness scared me, and therefore I envied those around me that had faith, that believed in afterlife or reincarnation.

My parents, like most typical Taiwanese, did not have a particular religion, but since we were in Wisconsin they would send me to Sunday school just for the social activities. I enjoyed making puppets of lambs, getting pretty little bookmarks with psalms, and hearing about the stories of Christianity. And I even started praying secretly every night, my own personal conversation with God, and I would always end my prayer with "Please bless Mommy, Daddy, and my sister Jesse, and help me be a better person. Amen."

The problem with this was that even though my conversations with God were powerful for me as a child (imagine talking to the universe!), the basic assumptions and requirements of Christianity did not agree with me. I did not like the exclusiveness of Heaven to be those who believed in God through Jesus. Actually, Jesus, this towering figure who always looked so sad on his cross scared me as a child. The fact that he was crucified was only terrifying and not at all touching to me, because my eight year old mind did not see how logically it was possible that through sacrificing himself God would forgive the rest of us for our sins. And ultimately, try as I might, my critical scientific mind could not believe in Heaven or an afterlife. I wanted to so very badly. It's just that the same part of me which knew with conviction there was no tooth fairy and no Santa Claus, knew with the same intuition that people must have made up this Heaven stuff just to make ourselves feel better.

So as I grew up, I prayed less and less. I slowly adopted a more pagan method of faith, I would sometimes have conversations with the trees and the skies when I felt lonely and in need of strength. And then as I grew up more, those conversations also ceased.

In high school and college I sometimes felt a longing for those days when I did believe in God or magical trees. But I knew that I did not have the capacity beyond my logical mind to accept the doctrine of most religions, and so I gave up on looking.

My trip to Italy sparked an interest in reading the Bible. So much of western culture and art and history is intertwined with this book and its stories that I felt I should read it properly at least once. But knowing how lazy I am, I started going to a bible study in a Christian fellowship. The bible was interesting, and as a grown up, I could try to understand the discussion more from different points of view, I no longer felt compelled to parse everything down with logic.

This is where I discovered that I do have faith, just not a faith that is compatible with theirs. Or any other mainstream religion.

The God I believe in is like abstract art, there are different interpretations and different manifestations, depending on the observer. For me God lies in the power of the natural universe (why are there physical laws? and why these ones?), this pull to search for something divine that tugs at most of the human race, and the existence of a universal moral code. I believe that beyond science and atoms and quarks, there is something greater that ties us all together. Different methods of worship are just different pathways towards divinity, and all contain wisdom about this search accumulated by the generations of humanity before us. Religion is a beautiful product of humanity. Many religions believe in a single God, some, like Buddhism believe divinity is within each and every one of us and can be reached by our own work, and then some believe in multiple Gods. Yet I do not believe that any single vehicle can be 100% correct, but that every one must find their own way for themselves. And I believe that those who find it necessary to oppress other views actually are in spirit further away from that concept of the divine. When I believe in my God and not yours, it should not make yours any less valid. I should not have to destroy you or object to your ideas to prove that I am right.s

I am a person of faith, just not of any religion. And I believe in God, just not yours.

The Awesome Island

I have a tendency to blabber, mostly about things I don’t know but which have happened to catch my attention. I’ve been reading this book/memoir written by a death penalty lawyer, called “The Autobiography of an Execution”. And so the death penalty ended up as conversation after dinner with friends one evening, and I blabbered on and on about how I am shocked and appalled by the injustices in this system, that I had never really realized it was so bad, that the death penalty is racist, classist and the difference between being executed or not is most of the time luck and legal technicalities which are stupid et cetera et cetera.

From this sorry state of affairs in capital punishment, my friends and I went on to count how many things are wrong with this society, such as corn subsidies, gender inequality, global warming…

Two of my friends, Stephen and Nora, sighed and said how they have this fantasy about buying an Island, and only have awesome people who “get it” live on it. They would have sustainable farming (and in Stephen’s island no using animal labor!), and justice for all, and gay marriage, and do things properly, responsibility, democratically. They would try to screen people for this awesomeness, and require a willingness to participate in cultivating such a positive and environmentally responsible community.

I joked how this would make a horrible reality show, where people would be kicked off the island. “You’re not awesome enough.” Stephen would say in a deep overly dramatic voice, then there would be sad sappy slow instrumental music and shots of people loading their bags onto solar-powered boats.

Other than my tendency to blabber, I also have the tendency to challenge other people’s ideas even if I think they are cool. Especially if they are cool. I bought up many technical reasons why this island would not work, and why it was not as awesome as they thought. If you are unsatisfied with the way the world is, why go hide in an island? Why not change the world?

“It’s impossible.” Nora and Stephen argued, empathetically. “We’ll make our island a success first, and use it as an example for how people should do things”

Is the world really beyond repair?

I know that feeling that Nora and Stephen were expressing: we look at the state of the world, and just feel helpless. Like we are the lone sensible people in the world. But I object to the concept of an island, because the world needs us sensible people to be part of it. It needs us who are so blessed and have so much-- we have the luxury of sitting around after dinner fuming about the injustices of the world, and the luxury of blabbering in a blog. We should use our vast resources and try to make the world more like what we would like it to be.

How can we not commend those that try to push against the forces that sustain injustice and poverty and inequality? Even if for these individuals or groups some of their efforts are futile? Wouldn’t we be worse off if they did not exist? To all those activists who dedicate their lives to making the world better, I salute you. To all those ordinary people who take the time or money to put a few drops of “just” in the ocean of injustice, I salute you.

And to myself, the intellectual who sits around and complains about how the world is not perfect, maybe it’s time I get off this awesome island where I sit and complain and jump into the sea of trying to make a difference.

Don't give up Jon

I've had a crush on Jon Stewart for years. But lately I don't follow the daily show quite as often, because:

1. I don't follow the news very closely, and feel that watching the clippings from the daily show will result in ill-informed judgements on my part.

2. Spending time watching Jon making fun of the stupid politicians and stupid news pundits is not the same as DOING SOMETHING ABOUT IT. (I keep planning to use this time sitting on my butt to do something worthwhile, but so far I just keep sitting on my butt, daydreaming...)

But still I am happy that Jon and his writers exist-- this segment is so well done and so true that it made me feel so sad. it makes me feel like maybe i will do something about it: like call my congresspeople and tell them they are f**king idiots.

http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/wed-august-4-2010/i-give-up---9-11-responders-bill

Welcome back to facebook

One month off facebook. I am now back on the evil addictive networking site.

A month ago I left facebook with the goal to be more like that imagined ideal of myself before I was allowed to reactivate my account, but in the end the prospect of seeing pictures my friend Yvonne would post of a trip to New York City was too great a lure for me, and so not nearly a better person or closer to my goals, I am back.

Other than that vague goal of wanting to be a better person, I also wanted to curb my addiction to this stupid website. Which I often checked as often as e-mail throughout the day.

In the beginning of my detox, it felt weird, sometimes I would type the web address into my browser and almost log in, almost like a reflex of being in front of my computer. I itched and wondered what my "friends" were doing. Detox is hard, I mused. Life seemed awfully quiet. I found out that I am in fact rather lonely.

But in the end, I adjusted, with time spent away from the internet and prowling facebook, I called my sister more often, sometimes was inspired to e-mail far-away friends that I miss and ask what they're doing. Instead of reading status updates, I kept up with global news. Instead of going through people's photos, I read books and other online media, watched more movies and TV shows. Instead of updating my own status and posting things, I wrote longer articles and musings for myself and for my blog.

And now I know which of my 480 friends on facebook care to take the time and call me or write me an e-mail when I am not easily accessible through a profile page. Way way less than 480. But I am glad you exist. :D

(okay, now I have to refrain from logging into facebook and posting this to my profile :p)

A matter of practicality

On the trip back from New York City, my friends and I got into a brief discussion about Taiwanese politics. Three Taiwanese girls from different backgrounds (whose parents had very very different political views), and one Chinese girl from mainland China.

The three Taiwanese explained to the Chinese girl that in Taiwanese politics there are two main parties, the pan-blue (KMT) and pan-green (DPP). They are usually caricutured as pro-unification and pro-independence. But our pan-blue representative in the car clarified that it's not pro-unification, but to keep the "status quo".

What is the "status quo"? It is the fact that Taiwan operates independently in governance, international trade, military, but stumbles around in diplomacy (and therefore international events). We have more military power than Japan, yet are forced to call ourselves "Chinese Taipei" in the olympics and other world games. We elect our own president, and legislature, yet only 23 countries have diplomatic ties with us. We have a very succesful national health care system that covers most everyone on the island, yet we cannot get a seat in the WHO, or the UN, or most other things for that matter.

The "status quo" is de-facto independence. So one could argue that both major parties in Taiwan are in favor of independence, and so are the majority of voters. What differs is their attitude towards relations with China. One side is more pragmatic (and at the same time slightly erring on the side of being a push-over). The other side takes a more confrontational stance, an attitude cultivated by starting out as an opposition party in a authoritarian environment.

The Chinese girl in our company was surprised: "well if there are only 23 countries that admit you are an official country, why is it easier for you Taiwanese to get visas for the United States and many European countries than it is for us?"

The answer is the world is pragmatic. People will in the end find a way for things to function despite the politics. Just like the fact that although it sucks to be called Chinese Taipei during the olympics, if that's the way we get to compete that's the way we'll do it, after all it's just a name.

And most of the time we feel all of the fuss about cross-strait relations is just politics, often mostly posturing and competition between China and the United States, and misuse for election purposes by our own local politicians. We real people have more practical things to worry about, such as what to eat for dinner.

Fiction

Sometimes I wonder about the distinction between fiction and non-fiction.

For which writer of fiction does not draw on life experiences and events real. And for writers of non-fiction that write about their own life experiences, do they not distort, cut, or edit to shape their stories into something more engaging?

Just some random thoughts from reading the wonderful essays from David Sedaris. Who I don't believe has a more interesting life than I do, just a more humorous writing style.

I've always envied people who are naturally funny. I want to be naturally funny.

Harvest

This is my first season gardening, and aside from the part where I have to pull weeds, it is quite fun. My roommate Amanda and I are sharing the garden, and both being novice gardeners, at the start of the season, we just stuck seeds in the ground and hoped for the best. Miraculously, half of the plants we sowed grew, even though we couldn’t really tell what they were when they first started.

I squeal with delight when I see a plant growing happily in the sun. And when I see a small fruit, in the form of zucchini or pepper, drawing nutrients from the plant and slowly expanding, I am in awe of how these plant things manage to convert sun energy into such a tangible form. I have derived so much joy from just admiring how big and leafy our garden is that I don’t know what I will do when winter time comes and I won’t have a garden to visit anymore.

And of course my excitement was hard to contain when we first started getting zucchini, luffa and peas in our garden three weeks ago. I stood and gazed at the fruits, and said adoringly, “Oh, you are soooo cute.” Other than zucchini and luffa, we have planted green beans, peas, bell peppers, tomatoes, kale, brussel sprouts, and eggplant.

The peas had shown up quite awhile ago, and Amanda and I were unsure as to when we were allowed to harvest them, and so we gently tugged on a few, and since they were stubbornly stuck to their vines, we assumed they were not ready to come off, and decided to wait a bit longer. Then, a week ago, the plant started dying. One day after watering the garden, I reported to Amanda that this was happening, and we were both at loss to what the cause could be, because we diligently watered our garden every day.

I ended up asking my friend I-chun, a seasoned gardener (well, 3 seasons I think, but she does have horticulture degree), what was going on. She laughed and said peas are an early plant, and we should harvest the peas if they are big enough to eat. So the conclusion is they are probably done bearing fruit, and we should salvage whatever is left. Amused, she also asked how our luffa was doing. I-chun had been kind enough to give us leftover seedlings of luffa. I proudly said that one of the plants had survived, and there was a large luffa growing on it. I-Chun was promptly envious because all her luffa plants in her own plot had died.

A few hours later, I get a call from I-Chun who tells me that she and her husband went to see how our luffa was doing. And they ended up laughing so hard that a neighboring gardener commented: “well, I’m glad your garden makes you so happy.” It turns out that our luffa is not a luffa but a cucumber. So now I have a gigantic cucumber in my fridge.

(In my defense, this cucumber was spiky and had rough skin… )

In a panic, I went to my garden after her call, and decided to harvest whatever looked big enough to eat to avoid other vegetables having the same fate. I plucked a few pounds of green string beans, some more zucchini, and my gigantic cucumber. Next to the zucchini was a zucchini-like plant with a gigantic round heavy green fruit growing on it. I decided, better safe than sorry, and plucked it off it’s vine. Then I started wondering what it was…

Again I called I-Chun and described my latest harvest. She asked: Is it round? Does the plant sort of grow vine-like with large leaves that look like zucchini? Yes, yes and yes. That’s a pumpkin. She concluded.

Okay, so now I have a green pumpkin in addition to a cucumber as large as my forearm. Ah, the joys of gardening.