Day Three: Inner Peace. Inner Peace. Inner Peace.

I’m on Day Three. Fingers crossed.

Side-note: Intro to Thesis is 50% done. I have 10 days before my supervisor blows a fuse because I’ve missed my long overdue deadline.

“I know that I know nothing” – Plato

I walked into a church today. I went because I needed peace. I heard some news today that made me want to.

I grew up Catholic. I was raised Catholic. I had religion coming out of my every orifice – figuratively. I went to a Convent and had religion denominate the beginning, middle and end of my school day. Suffice to say that when I left school I vowed to become Agnostic (I was also very young and impressionable, and the boyfriend at that time was Agnostic, so I felt that this was a Liberal and cool path to follow). Problem is, it’s kinda tough to be Agnostic when your love for music comes from hymns, and you appeal to God at least once or twice a day!

Religion is a topic of much controversy. I have had many arguments, mostly with my mother, on WHY I need to go to Church and why I need to immerse my children in religion. Apart from that I have also detested the Catholic church’s rigid and regulatory system; I have questioned why I need to confess my sins to an older man, when I can directly confess them to God, the list is endless. At times like this, when I have vociferously declared my issues against the Catholic church (pedophilia and financial abuse included), I have had many a friend invite me to his/her church; where worship is more open and more transparent and celibacy (lets face it, its an epic failure) does not exist. At times like this, and I cannot explain why, I have become increasingly uncomfortable. Later I have told myself, no I’ll stick with the Catholic church – thankyouverymuch.

I have no explanation for this. Neither is this part of some larger existential solution, where I’m going to preach here.

Religion to me is a very personal experience. It is a collection of very intimate experiences that, in my opinion, I cannot publicly declare. It is raw and it is something that gives me a lot of inner peace because it helps me constantly account for myself and my actions.

I have had many interesting discussions with a close friend of mine, who is a student of Divinity, and who’s studied intimately most of the ‘popular’ religions of the world. In light of these discussions, and my own personal thoughts, it has become clear to me that religion = solace. The interpretation of religion is reflected in its practices, but whatever the philosophy is, its ethos and core values remain the same. At the end of the day the function of any philosophical/theological belief system is that of accountability. If someone doesn’t hold us accountable for our actions, then are we not accountable for our sins? An extension of religion in many secular societies is the evolution of the justice or legal system: for example Ranjan did a bad thing, he’s going through shit for that now.

I suppose it was easier to create ‘divine’ entities who would punish us existentially, if we don’t comply. The need for solace has been misinterpreted and used as a tool for power and control, for the longest time. You only have to look at Roman Catholicism and former Paganism to identify the maddening similarities.

The problem is that society gets caught up in the pomp and pageantry of institutionalized religion, that we forget why religion exists.

Religion = solace.

I have no shame in admitting that I have turned to religion lately. Not that I was akin to the lost son, or the lost sheep. I have been religious but in the past few months as I discovered more truths about myself (refer this post). I discovered that I needed solace; which I found. In this process I am adamantly refusing to adopt a holier-than-thou attitude and shove my beliefs down another’s throat. No. I find solace in being accountable for myself and the things that I do. Praying is talking out loud, or writing out loud – like this. It is unraveling the thoughts that have gone through you, and the actions that you have committed. It is exploring the reasons why you have done these things, and understanding them. It doesn’t mean, at least to me, that you take stringent steps to better your life and/or change it. It is a process of awareness, and I’ve found that this awareness does gradually bring about change. And the keyword here is gradual.

If we look at the Bible, the New Testament specifically, one of the most flagrantly obvious things the Jesus preaches is that we are all sinners and accepting our sins is the best way to enter the kingdom of God. That’s what I believe is the essence of Christianity; accepting you’re a sinner and understanding that your standing as a person of imperfection does not give you the authority or ability to judge a fellow sinner. All you can do is accept, acknowledge and gradually forgive yourself. This, I strongly believe, will lead to a process of enlightenment for you and then an adoption of better behavior – not immediately, but gradually. Isn’t this what maturity and growth is about? Isn’t this was the Renaissance was built on?

To quote Elizabeth Gilbert, “Eat. Pray. Love”. That encompasses a healthy ethos – to me, anyway. Striving to be a decent human being can only come organically. It cannot be a process that is forced upon you by a man, religion or legal system. Yes, Jesus, Christianity and the Law of Sri Lanka affect what I can and cannot do, to a great extent. But the moment I take a step back and reflect on why I am who I am, and why I do the things I do… that ‘trip’ creates a much better Shannon that the Shannon who is forced to blindly follow dictums that mean little to me…because inner peace can only come from knowing that I really know nothing.

Day Two: Banned Books

Three weeks into the new year and I’ve had three Wednesdays of writing. Fingers crossed.

I’ve wanted to address the issue of Banned Books for a while because I read some interesting posts on Facebook, and these ideas have been percolating in my head.

The entire process of prohibition is one imbibed with futility. The moment you ban something, everyone wants a piece of that. If we look back at history, we only have to realize that mankind is remarkably talented at identifying loopholes in regulations, or subverting edicts resulting in a form of sedition.

If this is true of adults, why are we surprised when children engage in it? They are mini-men, miniature adults. The germination of our seditious thoughts stem from juvenile experiences, do they not?

I am choosing not to address the preclusion of other contraband, and choose to focus entirely on books – children’s books to be specific.

Books represent fountains of knowledge, they always have. If a publisher can be found, or a scribe (in ancient times), then there is no limit to who can have access to a writer’s thoughts. Yes, lets admit, not all writers’ thoughts are worthy, or worthwhile. The genre of children’s literature alone is vast. As a parent there is absolutely no way you’re going to be able to read all the books your kids get.

However just because you can’t skim through the latest book your child has, it doesn’t mean that you should place an embargo on certain books. In that case I’d ban Enid Blyton books in my household right now. Blyton’s racism was identified as early as the 1960s, its even mentioned in her Wikipedia page. Despite this some of my best memories of childhood include myself, my bed and an Enid Blyton book. So no, I’m not going to stop my children from reading Famous Five. We constantly forget that writers themselves are products of their environment; their social and political situations. Writers spew out views that they are subjected to, sometimes consciously and at other times subconsciously. An excellent example would be the educational system under Hitler-led Nazi Germany when children were intentionally indoctrinated with anti-semitic values.

Luckily for us, we don’t live in Nazi Germany? The same thing’s happening in Sri Lanka today. If you happen to glance through a History textbook taught in majority of schools following the NES system in Sri Lanka, you’ll understand what I mean. The GCE History textbook is heavily biased and omits many important aspects of our nation’s history. Our local schools’ education curriculum is in desperate need of objectivity, but few have identified this pertinent need. Fortunately parents are so busy looking at the literature their children read, they rarely check the Government proscribed textbooks.

I take particular offense at the bans parents make on the literature their kids read. Mostly because of frivolous reasons: the book has the word ‘fuck’ in it; the characters say ‘shit’; the character is rude to his/her parents; there is magic in it and this questions my religion. The list is endless. Let’s face it guys, these kids will eventually learn these words, and if you’ve practiced a religion for a while a child cannot sustain opposing beliefs. And most importantly, don’t forget ALL kids go through PHASES; they did as infants, they will as teens.

Parents are also the first to complain that their children don’t read. This complaint is the bane of my existence as a teacher. I wish I could turn to parents and ask them, ‘Yes but do YOU read?’ or ask ‘What kind of books do you buy for your child?’. Instead I subvert this complaint with a banal smile, and mutter that I cannot (as a teacher) inculcate a reading habit in a child I’ve just met because I have a syllabus to teach.

A book, since the very first Book (The Bible), has always been sacred. It has, and continues to be, a repository of knowledge. This knowledge can be good, bad, horrendous – who knows? Eitherway if it contains knowledge, chances are it will open up your mind or your child’s mind. Understand first what kind of book you are reading. Then, enjoy it. Then, think about it.

My son is currently into ‘Diary of a Wimpy Kid’. I bought him the first book and now both him and my daughter have all the books in the series and at times re-read the books. The protagonist in these novels is rude and is going through puberty. Shevin has asked me some interesting questions! Do I question my decision in giving an 8 year old and a 6 year old access to these books? No. Why? Because they can read them all by themselves. Do they ask me questions? Yes. Do I answer them honestly? As much as I can – or I say let me explain this to you later. Do we talk about the bad stuff Greg does? Yes we do. It is important to me that I understand Jeffy Kinney’s goal in writing this series; he’s trying to present a ‘different’ story so he can sell more books. The story is in a mixed medium and is quaint, in its own way. Its also part of a successful movie franchise. I can’t fault Jeff Kinney for any of this. Neither can I punish Shevin for asking me about facial and body hair.

Encouraging a child reader is also encouraging a leveling-up of his her vocabulary, thoughts and ideas. There has to be a gradual progression in books he/she is exposed to, or else he/she will stop reading – and that’s a fucking crime. Yet this is the sad story. In order to ‘protect’ our children we hold them back and impose sanctions on what they are exposed to. Keeping him/her on the same level of reading merely because you are uncomfortable or uninformed about something is a crime and a punishment. A child needs to be exposed to something ‘bad’ to identify what is ‘good’.

We easily forget that each child’s mental growth process is different. For example my daughter, at 6, is on the same reading level as my son, who is 8. Please don’t justify this to me because she is a girl and tell me that her gender plays a role in this because I will not allow myself to go on that particular thought train. She is this way because of her context: when Shevin was learning to read she ardently watched and repeated. Her induction into reading and writing came as a process of mimicry; ‘I want to be like Ayia so I will copy him’. Her mimicry became so excessive that when he had bad handwriting, so did she. He still has bad handwriting, but she has realized that bad handwriting puts her out of favor with the teacher and so she has changed her behaviour, all on her own. This is what I mean by mental growth. Exposure encourages mental growth which spurs critical thinking. We have too many automatons in the world today. We need more critical thinkers.

We cannot have critical thinkers when we restrict the growth of a child’s thought by placing restrictions on what he/she reads.

That’s the sum total of my argument.

Encourage reading. Don’t stop reading. Read far and wide; high and low. Read badly written books and identify that they’re badly written. Read something with beautiful prose or poetry and fall in love with the cadence and rhythm of that. Or get lost in the visual imagery that a writer creates for you in that world inside your head. Close a book and feel like you’ve unplugged a life support system, revisit that book again and again and be revitalized. Put a book down and think, and think and think. Let your thoughts percolate in your head and get lost in those thoughts.

If you have a child, my advice is to start reading. Read a book while your infant plays. Show your baby that you read. And just like toddlers parallel play, parallel read. Keep doing this – you won’t lose out, and neither will your child. But please, don’t don’t ban books in your home.

Wednesdays are for Writing

Day 1.

This is literally Day One. I’ve promised to finish my MA Thesis by December 2020, and my Lecturer insisted that one of the ways to improve my overall writing is to write. Weekly. (I believe I have blogged about this before?)

2019 was a bitch. The year taught me so many lessons. So many difficult lessons. There is no doubt that I needed to learn these lessons, and there is no doubt in my mind that I made the right decisions. Here’s a brief overview of lessons I’ve learnt, because Wednesdays are now for writing. Something. Anything.

Disclaimer: (Again) Please note, I write as a form of catharsis. There is nothing more freeing to me than to put my thoughts down and unraveling my thoughts while I write. My opinions are my own and I really don’t care what your opinion, of my opinion, is 🙂

1. A marriage is so easy to get into, but so hard to get out of.

I walked out of my marriage in February 2019. It was my fault. It was his fault. There were a lot of things that contributed to that dissolution, but it happened. It was a culmination of a lot of bad decisions and you’re more than welcome to call me, text me, write to me if you want the deets. I have no qualms in talking about it because in my honest opinion there is no shame in admitting failure or defeat. Mine is not the first marriage to have failed. Mine is not the first divorce to take place. There is no shame in admitting that this experience has taught me a helluva lot about myself – and that’s so very important to me. I have two amazing kids, who I wouldn’t have had if I regretted my marriage. Do me a favor though, don’t pity my children. I don’t. Right now they know they’re loved. Right now they know that there are unconventional families. Right now they’re happy. Don’t say “sin for those kids” because honestly there are worse sins for them to experience. I’d much rather they grew up without a facade and with the knowledge that sometimes it takes more strength to walk away from a tough situation, than stay in one and comply.

The legal process in this country is tough. Its also pretty patriarchal. I have however not had any ‘horrible’ experiences. I have gone to police stations by myself and I have gone to courts by myself and I’ve been treated with a lot of respect. There is however a lot of bureaucracy and the legal profession and procedure (I’m sorry Lawyer friends) is a heartless, soulless one and I am so glad I missed Law Faculty by 0.68 marks!

2. I’m not going to change who I am because of you and your negativity.

I am an emotional person. I am very warm. I am childish. I am loud and uninhibited at time (especially after a few drinks!). I am blunt and frank. I am also easily hurt and upset. I am often used and discarded by people. This is all ok. I have always been of the opinion that these qualities I have allow me to work with kids and have on occasion justified being called ‘the child whisperer’. The last year made me crumble into myself and consider becoming vicious. Experiences have pushed me to brink of hardening my heart and losing my soul. I have lashed out and been mean and cruel. It was my son who showed me the light, “Ma, you’ve told me that I have to do good to people even if they’re mean to me. Why don’t you try that ma? It’ll make you happier. You’re a happy guy.”

Boom.

Children are honestly the best gift God has given us. Childhood should be eternal. I hate adulthood. Anyway, I stopped hating. I stopped being mean. I decided to put into the world what I’d want others to give me. It did not matter that I heard this person had said something mean about me, because at some point this person has been kind to me. So, I’m gonna go with that. I cannot fill myself with hatred and anger because it’s just not worth it. I have to set an example to my babies. I have to show them that Love always wins. It might not seem like it sometimes, but Love should always win. So there. You can hate on me, you can not agree with what I say, how I behave, how I choose to live my life and raise my kids. It doesn’t matter. You’re a person. If you know me, if you’ve been nice to me, my babies or someone I care about – you’ve got my love and affection, whether you want it or not.

3. My family is everything to me.

I told my mum this morning that I love her more in the beginning of 2020, than I did in the beginning of 2010. Through thick and thin my mum, dad and mallie have been with me. They’ve yelled and screamed at me. Disagreed with me. Called me a shit tonne of names to boot – but they’re the first to call me, check on me, feed me and show me that familial bonds are the forever kind. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

We don’t get to choose our family, but a family that chooses to stay with you no matter what, is gold. Everyone should value his/her family more. Accept that they’ll never see eye to eye with you, but know that their love is the forever kind cos they love you despite it all.

4. People matter.

It takes a village to raise a family. I have learned this. People who love you will surprise you in the most unconventional and surprising ways. I have learned to accept any form of help and love with my arms wide open. If I’ve talked to you about some emotional shit, or sent you a mushy message lately then you’re one of those people 😛

5. Every experience is a lesson.

All this is a learning curve. In the beginning of 2010 I didn’t even imagine this is where I’d be in 2020! It’s ironic. All this has made me stronger and made me unafraid. I am not afraid of change. It is the one constant in life and I have to learn to adapt, to move with the times and to grow. I need to let go of petty problems and issues, and just live. Perspective is everything!

It is very easy to say ‘I don’t care what people think’ and pretend to be thick-skinned. It is.  When I hear what others say of me, or when others tell me I need to do this or be this – it smarts. It bruises me and I want to crawl into a hole and stay there for a few days. But I don’t. Because you know what? Yes, it affects me and it bothers me but it cannot define me. Your opinion of me is one opinion. And I know two others who have a slightly better opinion of me. I know another person who knows the context of my situation. So yes, you can bruise me with your words, but I’m still going to keep standing men. Can’t be falling down all the time. I’m a big girl. I gotta be strong. If not for me, for my babies. To show them that mummy tried; mummy didn’t succeed all the time, but mummy sure as hell tried. And that’s half the battle.

There. Day One is done.

If I don’t blog next Wednesday, its because I’ve actually begun writing the Thesis 🙂