25 February 2009


So earlier tonight I went to church for Ash Wednesday. I was born and raised Roman Catholic, but about two years ago stopped practicing. I became quasi-agnostic and lived life without the regular visits to church.

Having been through some rough times recently (and after plenty of reminders from my moms and select friends) I started going back to church to see if spirituality was the thing I was lacking. I'm still in the process of checking.

Tonight I attended the evening mass at St. Mark's Cathedral in Capitol Hill. The gospel was done by a lady of small stature, but her choice words rang in my head. She started off talking about Ash Wednesday and what it means. She spoke about the Oscars and in particular, two different scenes in two different winners: the ending dance number in Slumdog Millionaire and the candlelight march in Milk. The preacher talked about how she felt when watching those scenes; how she felt like although her body didn't know how, she wanted to dance to celebrate and be happy along with Slumdog and she felt the solemnity, sadness and honor of Milk. She explained that humans, regardless if we're taught or not, know how to do these rituals. The circle was complete when she said that even if we don't go to church often, we know that we had to be there, like this was a distant memory (it was with me) from the past. Without being too religious, the lady explained how we need to practice rituals, whether religous or not, to be in touch with ourselves. With our spirits.

Blabbering, I know, but I needed to spew it out.

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