On Being Magical and Being Still

[wlotus]

This morning I found myself thinking back to when I took a discipleship class at a church I used to attend. I remembered how hungry I was to learn the material. What made me so hungry? And why did I become disillusioned enough to walk away and not look back?

I never wanted to be ordinary. I wanted to be magical.

I was tired of feeling like a victim of life and circumstances and men who did not think I was worthy of their love. I wanted to be untouchable, to be able to make things happen just by virtue of my belief in and relationship with the god of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The stories Christians told me throughout my youth and young adulthood had me convinced I should be able to do those things, and I became very disillusioned when that did not happen. I felt more and more like I was wasting my life and vitality on beliefs that were not producing. So, when I left Syracuse in 2003 I also left evangelical/pentecostal Christianity.

Nowadays I think I am magical, as in "a special person who brings a unique flavor to the world." But I don't think I can wave a hand or say a prayer and thus invoke a miracle, change the course of nature, or affect someone else's circumstances for better or worse. I am learning to celebrate ordinariness, rather than looking for miracles. However, I am amused that in celebrating ordinariness, I have crossed paths with people who are convinced that I am something of a miracle.

More amazing than that is the fact that I believe them.

On a loosely related note, I have lately been nurturing my innate sense of reverence. Reverence for what, I do not know. I only know what I feel. I get still and simply look inward. It is a calming feeling, not judgmental or scary in any way. I don't feel pressured to scream or shout or respond in any of the emotional ways I grew up seeing in the pentecostal church. I just feel like being still. I like it.

Comments

[wlotus.livejournal.com]

As I learn to appreciate ordinariness, I wonder why I was not content with being ordinary as a child. Was it unreasonably high expectations from others? Was it an innate knowledge that I was destined for greatness, like I may have read other high achievers feeling about themselves at an early age? Was it an inability to distinguish between reality and fantasy? (I have always had an active imagination.) Or perhaps it was the inevitable wish of a kid who was deeply unhappy? It may have been a combination of all of those things. I'm not sure. I AM sure, though, that I am far more content and secure in myself when I am embracing ordinariness...not to mention LESS ANXIOUS, OMG!

I suppose I could dig down and figure out some of the specific reasons why I wanted to be magical, not ordinary. But at this stage of my life I am growing weary of that exercise. I've pointed to those places in my history so much that I am bored with looking at them.