Ever have one of those nights where waking up in the middle of the night solves a riddle for you? Tonight, I’m having one of those nights…
See, while I’m satisfied with the state of things, something about the whole thing has been rolling around in my brain making me less than calm, resulting in morning sickness level nausea and a weight-gaining level of cortisol flooding my blood stream… despite my prescription for an anti-anxiety medication that I have since doubled just to be able to sleep.
I know there’s no going back, and I made my peace with that a while ago. I had to try to see if there was a possibility for more because things felt too perfect to be a mistake.
But he doesn’t see any value in me, or assumes his family will not, and I cannot accept that. I have value; I am, in fact, valuable. I am a person after all, and all people have some value.
It reminds me of a story…
Early on, I had asked some questions (or perhaps he was just sharing with me) about the Ramayana. I’ve read the story before (religion is something of a hobby of mine), and his version of the story was just different enough from the version I’d read or heard that I was confused.
I commented on it, and he looked at me with this look of incredulity.
How dare I, a westerner, not raised in the Hindu faith, have an opinion on such a sacred story?
No, he didn’t say such things, but early on, before I was truly comfortable with him, I felt that I had no right to tell him that I didn’t agree with his version of the story. Or at the least, that I’d been exposed to a different version of the story that had, in fact, altered my own view of God and Deity.
The version of the story that I’d read told how Ravana, the 100-headed king of the Rakshasas (or shape-shifting demons) had been granted a boon: he could not be killed by any weapon of the gods. So, later, when Rama and his army of monkeys (provided by the monkey god Hanuman) are fighting against Ravana, nothing they do can kill him because Rama keeps using weapons gifted to him by the gods.
Rama, at this time doesn’t know he is an incarnation of Vishnu.
Rama awakes in the middle of the night after having had a dream. In the dream, Brahman came to him (in my memory, he did so in the shape of a turtle, but as I try to recall, I think he changed into many shapes), and tells him that God is within him. Rama awakes and realizes that he must defeat Ravana with his own hands, or with a simple man-made weapon, and the next day he is victorious, saving his wife Sita and then living happily ever after.
In my limited studies about the gods of Hindu myth, I learned that Brahman was the main God (yes, with a big G), and was to some extent within all the other gods.
Or at least that is how I understood it… It was only a brief study and I haven’t had time to go back and learn more.
His comment that he was within Rama could have been simply because Rama was the incarnation of Vishnu, but it also holds a deeper meaning for me. It suggests that God (again with the big G) is within all of us as well.
It was, as I said, an idea that changed my view of Deity all together!
It was during that period of my life that I decided that there was one God with many faces, and the face you choose to worship does not define God, but rather defines who you are as a person. Meaning that, for me, I am as comfortable in a Christian church, as I am in a synagogue, or a mosque, or a Hindu temple, or in the circle surrounded by a coven of witches.
For that matter, if you’ve been paying any attention, you might have noticed that I’m actually more comfortable with a slightly pagan way of doing things.
So when this boy told me I wasn’t worthy because I wasn’t raised in his faith, well, yeah, I wasn’t, but I’m closer to his faith than I am to Christian. And while I’ve said that to him before, it always went in one ear and out the other.
I know that to be true because when I told him that I had a friend who wanted to play matchmaker, I hinted that I wasn’t sure I’d be comfortable with her choice because she would want to set me up with a Christian. His response was that so what, wouldn’t I be more comfortable with that? And while, yeah, in theory I should be, I’m really not because someone who is extremely devout in their faith won’t accept that I am equally as devout in the belief that no one way is correct.
But we never had that conversation. He didn’t see me as having enough value to be worthy of that conversation. It wasn’t worth discussing… to him.
To me, I allowed my love for him to cloud my judgment for a moment. I forgot that I, too, have God within me, as we all do. We are all divine creatures as much as we are mundane, mortal beings. Our soul gives us a link to eternity, and that makes all people valuable, no matter what race, or religion, or caste.
And I will not let any one man make me feel unworthy of love anymore/again.