A week in the spring.

A week ago this was a barren raised bed wanting to become a scattering garden.
Last Saturday, my spouse and I transplanted hundreds of plants, and now we have a beautiful garden.
I love the way spring and rain can breathe life into places reserved to venerate the dead.
Sent from the TARDIS Intergalactic Temporal Mobile Service

The local church has been courting my tween quite aggressively. By which I mean sending her mail inviting her to join their confirmation class, then sending her their meeting schedule, even after receiving no response.
They seem to have it in their head that she would benefit from their teachings, and I have no issue with my offspring choosing a christian church, but I *do* have an issue with my offspring choosing a homophobic church which preaches hate. So, should I just ignore their outreach, or should I tell them "hey, if my kid wants to join a church, she's welcome to, but it won't be one that teaches that homosexuality is a sin, because that's just wrong."

Wordless Wednesday: Learning

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Wordless Wednesday: Decisions

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Where We Go From Here

There are a lot of thoughts on things like where we came from and where we are going.

If you ask members of the big three, we were each of us created by God and are eventually heading to Heaven or Hell. If you ask a Buddhist, we're all heading for this all over again, until we get it all just right. Ask a pagan and they're just as likely to tell you some version of one of the above as anything else, though sometimes with a little more wishy-washy-hood to it.

I'm not going to tell you where we're going from here.

Mongoosine, however, has thoughts. Thoughts, even. Big Thoughts.

Children come in two flavors. Questions and Thoughts.

Questions is one of those under-flavored kinds of flavors. Like watered down kool-aid that you just keep drinking more of because you want to be able to taste it better. It's like popcorn that never manages to fill you up but keeps your hand coming back for more salty goodness. Thoughts tastes more like a dark chocolate. Not something you gobble down, but rather something you very slowly roll around in your mouth as is melts into something phenomenal.

When it comes to where we come from and are heading, Mongoosine has Thoughts.

Although her favorite activities are often the sorts of activities which take place in the Methodist church just down the street, (I'll talk about why I continue to encourage her involvement there some other time, this isn't about that) she has certainly used her thinking cap to evolve her own theory on the journey of the soul.

She believes in a unique form of reincarnation, which, for lack of any term, I'm going to have to call re-permutation.

Mongoosine was perhaps seven when she explained this to me. She believes that each and every person's soul is kinda like a molecule, made up of even smaller pieces. She believes that we are each reincarnated, but that the three atoms that make up my soul in this lifetime will split up when I die and then pair with any number of other atoms to form new and unique molecules of soul. By her reasoning, each soul as we know it is made up of smaller pieces of souls and they all split and reconfigure with pieces of souls that someone else had to create ever evolving, ever changing new souls.

You probably get it. But for those of you who don't get it, think of it as your soul is made of ABC, and someone else's soul is made of DEFG, while yet a third person's soul is comprised of HI, and a fourth of JKLMN, a fifth of OPQ, and a sixth of RSTUV, a seventh of WXY, and an eighth of Z.

In another time, in another incarnation, your A might be paired with someone else's D and yet another person's S, to create ADS, while your B and C get together with Z, so the you who was, on a soul level, is then two other people, who in turn might be a part of three more. And with each and every incarnation it all mixes over and over again. Perhaps they're ADYL, HDO, ESV, XJK, BMP, NQRTU, W, CZ. Over and over they would mix. Perhaps eventually even all soul pieces pairing one way or another with each and every other soul piece until over time, all souls truly are but smaller pieces of one greater spiritual entity.

Pretty heady stuff from a seven year old. But like I said, she has Thoughts.

I like her Thoughts.

Do you have Thoughts? I'd love to read them.

Rebirth

It has been nearly a decade now that I've been pulling further and further into the broom closet, until I nearly forgot that these wooden things I can't see in the dark are indeed brooms.

This is me, peering out from behind the door and inching toward the light.