Although surrounded by quasi-religious parents and extremely religious schoolmates throughout most of my youth, I really never felt even remotely connected to any of it.
I'd like pretend that it was my over analytical mind that could sense there was something wrong with it all but it was most likely just because I was lazy and completely disinterested in having the extra responsibilities that faith required. In fact, I think I grew to hate religion even before I understood why. And that feeling has intensified every single moment since. Every single one.
That is, until tonight.
You see, I've been unable to work for the last few months due to really messing up my back. I injured myself exercising back in September and literally every second of every day since has been clouded in pain ranging from medium to insane. I assumed it was just a pulled muscle or something and would heal relatively quickly but here I am 6 months later, doctors still have no clue what is going on and I’m currently awaiting an MRI scan that will hopefully shed some light on the situation. Luckily, my beyond incredible and amazingly supportive wife had an emergency fund setup for a situation just like this one, so we've been making out alright so far. But as the last couple of months have stretched on, with no apparent medical solution in sight, there was definitely a little bit of fear starting to seep in and boatload of guilt pulling in fast behind.
So back to earlier tonight. As it should happen, just when our stress levels were starting to peak, some much needed but completely unexpected cash basically fell right into our lap from out of nowhere. It's not a huge amount by any stretch of the imagination, but it will be just enough to give us a bit of breathing room during the next couple of months as we try to sort everything out.
So why am I telling you all this?
Well, you see, as I stood there tonight processing this great news I found myself closing my eyes for just a split second and, in my mind, saying the words 'Thank you.'
I had already opened my eyes and taken 3 steps before it hit me like a ton of bricks.
I had just prayed for the first time in years.
My instant reaction was anger.
‘Who the fuck are you praying to idiot? You don’t believe in that anymore, remember?'
Fortunately, I have been working on my awareness (as described by Eckhart Tolle) a lot over the past couple of years and was therefore able to quickly detect the anger, will it away, and start to analyze the situation backed by calmness, reason and logic.
After a quick moment of reflection, I recognized that this thankful 'prayer' had pretty much been the only religious act that I did willingly and happily throughout my life . As I let that thought dance around my mind, an avalanche of great memories began lighting up my brain. Most were either unexpected moments of happiness such as the one above or ones when I was in awe of something beautiful in nature; and all were connected by those two simple words I used to say whenever I was aware enough to realize the moment warranted it.
Thank you.
And right there, in that moment, I felt happiness and peace.
I think many people would abandon their thought process right there and say to themselves ‘see, maybe religion isn’t so bad after all.' But if I've learned anything at all during this journey towards awareness, it would definitely have to be that the more layers you peel back, the more meaningful each layer becomes. Besides, deep down I knew how I felt about religion and it was a pretty solidly one-sided argument; so this tranquility I was experiencing just didn't 'feel' like it was coming from a religious place.
So then what did it mean? If this wasn't a religion-based prayer, what was it? I quickly dove right back inside my mind and continued ripping the place apart looking for answers.
'Well if it wasn't a religious thought, who were you thanking? And why did you feel that sense of calm afterwards? The same one you used to feel while in the midst of the herd.'
Suddenly a single word flashed in my mind's eye: "Gratefulness"
'Gratefulness?' I wondered, 'Grateful to who?'
And suddenly, without so much as another thought, I was certain not only of the answer, but also of the fact that I was actually asking the wrong question. The key to it all was quite simple really; I wasn’t looking for a 'who', I was looking for a 'what'?
The thing that had suddenly become so obviously clear to me in that moment was that I was never thanking god in the first place. What I was actually doing was expressing my gratitude to life itself. I was being a humble servant to the beauty of randomness, a faithful believer in the wonderful unpredictability of life, and a devoted worshipper of the ultimate meaninglessness of our existence.
Because, with the risk of sounding like a Hallmark card, our time here is short and our lives are filled with moments we can't control. The important part is to pause within those moments, even for just a breath's length, and appreciate them for what they are: the composition of our one and only life.
It is only once we do that, that we can truly be grateful - and not to some imaginary deity who will send us to hell if we don't - but to the incredible variance of the universe that has allowed each one of us to end up in this place, in this time, doing the only things that truly matter: living, loving, and being loved.
Because really, at the end of the day, what else could we possibly need out of this life?
In my opinion, absofuckinglutely nothing.
I am.
I, am.
I.
