Sunday is for the Soul
Who grew up religious?
Ok good I didn't either. (Phew).
I was raised Catholic by a Protestant mother who was raised around Jews.
That's right. All kinds of wrong happening hahaha. (I'm joking!)
My mother was raised in a neighborhood where all her friends were Jewish. Then later in the same hood (big up Queens), my mother fell for a guy who is Italian Roman Catholic.
By the time they got around to having kids, the Italian side (which is like a Mexican or any latin side) was bigger and more dominant (like if someone is half black and white you don't look at them and say are they part black?.... you know where I'm going with this.) Sooooooo we were baptized Catholic.
Never in my youth did my family sit around with a bible and talk about God.
God was only there before a meal ("thank you God for this food we are about to eat..."), before bed ("dear Lord, don't take me in my sleep"), and holidays. (I have an image of Ross's son Ben meeting the Holiday Armadillo here... don't you. Isn't it all about Santa?)
Religion was there when it was time to make your 1st communion, confirmation, and so on. (I did all that and have a Godson... and he's cuter and more bad ass then your Godson... See this is when religion applies to me.)
Just so you know... this post isn't about religion or lack there of. FYI: I don't care about religion. (I do however when I'm around my 93 year old Italian Grandma... cause that's just how it is.)
Sunday morning as a kid was about bacon, and play dates, and fun! Sleeping in and my Dad sitting in his underwear on the couch, until he took a shower and then I got excited and I thought "WHERE ARE WE GOING TODAY?????"
Someone else's pool, someone's new house (it was Vegas, everyone always had a new house), a birthday party... WHERE WHERE WHERE!!!!
A. got to be in my pjs all day
B. got to be in my swimsuit all day.
The parents got divorced.... now Sunday was about going to church.......
I'm sorry.... WTF is that?
But what about bacon, and pools, and playdates....
Ok church had cookies and juice afterward... but why do I have to sit here and listen to a dude talk about another dude who These Dudes (aka us) don't talk about ever? And why do I have to put on clothes? I do that every other day.
(I promise this post isn't about religion)
I do not have a problem with any church or temple going folk... what I did have a problem with was my folk faking the funk at a joint we didn't wanna be at. (None of us wanted to be there.)
This great question happened on the way home from one of these post-divorce-trying-to-find a new routine moments....
"Why does God only live at the church?"
"He doesn't. He's everywhere."
"So why do we have to go there?"
She had no answer.
Which is fine.
Wait... no... she did have an answer......
God is everywhere.
I wouldn't say that was the moment we stopped, or that I've never been back... but that answered a question I had in my mind that my heart said "That's it".
Universe, The Source, God.... I like to just call it Uny (its cute right)... It doesn't stop or start the moment you enter into One Building... or in front of One Person... or One Group.
You see... I could never believe in Jesus, because... he seemed a little to hyped... And then I also had a huge group of Jews who did nothing but love me unconditionally since I was born... And they don't believe in the guy... But I believe in them... But we all could be wrong... and then there's Allah, Buddha, Abraham, Mosses, Mary... the list continues...
There's a lot of GODS
But I was taught about the Father (yeah ok he's around), the Son (yeah don't know about him cause a lot of guys have confusing stories about him... aka all the DUDES got to talk... and the women where either moms or whores... Oye!) and the Holy Spirit.....
What a min... what's that?
(I swear this isn't a post about religion)
Cut to now....
I lay in bed (its the one day I do not schedule a workout... unless I am so inclined when I wake up... if my body wants that), there is no alarm set... No dates planned. (Brunch/lunch/coffee)
There are hundreds of outdoor markets going on in LA. Brunch spots with endless Mimosa's. And of course churches that have free parking and coffee.
I don't want any of it.
If I agree to do any of it... my internal Kid who wants to lay in her Pj's all day wakes up and says... "But why? We wear clothes every other day?"
I sleep, until I wake.
I lay there, until I hear the birds outside sing.
I get up to open the blinds, to feel the sun shine in.
When I finally get up... there is a kitchen ritual that happens.
Water goes into two places, a tea kettle and a pot.
One makes oatmeal (with cinnamon), and the other gets blended with coffee grinds (in a french press... just setting the mood here kids) and a little left over goes into another cup with lemon juice. (Cause bacon really can't happen every Sunday... it just can't.)
Oatmeal, coffee, hot water with lemon.
Simple. Clean. Healthy. Warm.
This is how I connect with the HOLY SPIRIT on Sunday morning.
(Here it all ties in.)
It wasn't that I didn't believe in God or her great powers (like how I did that.) Its just that I want a moment to get still and not run around, and respect the God given life I was given. To enjoy it all. This beauty.
This body I was given, the rest it needs, the sun it gets to feel the unbelievable power of, the birds song I get to hear.... The clean food that my body wants to function, the warm water my lungs and my system needs to stay alive....
I hate to get all hippy dippy on ya... Whats more God like then that??? (I did put soul in the title so this is your fault if you've gotten this far.)
We SHOULD all take time out of our day to connect in with ourselves and get quiet enough to hear those voices tell us what we need to do.
But if we DONT... what we can do is take that one morning a week to look around and look inside and say.... "this is beautiful, the body I get to exist inside right here, right now, for however long I get it." (So the one day a week going ritual is a good thing after all... hmmmmmm)
And say "Thank You" to whomever is listening.... (P.S. hate to break it to you... God is YOU. So he's/she's listening.)
If you do that in a church or temple or small group... that's great... But you do for you what you feel is the most Godlike to you... and BOOM... God is right there.
What if you don't believe in God.... (That's a whole other post)... But if thats the case... Enjoy doing whatever the fuck you want because this is it for you!!!! Live it up!!!! (Its not btw you... yeah you.)
Ok Lauren... why this post today?????
My Great Uncle passed away yesterday (as I write this... tears come to my eyes.) This man was my Grandmother's twin brother. So the sadness gets a little bigger as you think about the one thing connected to the thing that you loved so much.
He was a self made man, Brooklyn born, who was takin out of school at 10 to work for the family, who served at Normandy, and is that old school thing you don't get anymore.
Well here's the thing to that.
As I was driving yesterday and heard the news about this... Tears came into my eyes, and sadness took me over.
Not all consuming but heart feeling.
The sadness and the tears and the life that gets to feel that... the life that still carries the DNA of these two. The life that still gets to go on, and feel its own heart beating... and have a moment of sadness... that life, is the most God like thing you could own.
Those feelings... the one someone else no longer gets to feel... those small moments that you have the gift of having (oatmeal, coffee, water, sleep, sun, birds) are the moments some one else doesn't anymore.
(Where am I going with all this.)
That is when I wake up on a Sunday morning... sit still and say Thank You.
Thank you for having my DNA come from these people, thank you for the chance to get up another day, and thank you for my moments of having a slice of pizza and a beer with you Uncle that was one of the smallest and sweetest moments of love I could have ever had. A moment as I sat in your kitchen in your home that looks around a garden that screams life and love. A garden that shows the softness of a tough man's soul. A man who's seen the hard times and wants nothing more then to enjoy the present time.
(See how beautiful that is!!!! All of it)
I don't think I can grab that moment from a loud lounge or a noisy brunch spot, or even a fresh open air market. That moment comes for me in the silence of a good slept in morning.
Thank you Uncle Al.
And thank you to all the souls existing and shinning this very Sunday.
Happy Sunday to you all.
I hope your Soul gets what it needs. I know mine sure has.
All my love to you all,
Albert & Audrey ♥️