Following the Sun

My husband talks about how he is a gamer but I also grew up around video games. I remember the Christmas when we got our Nintendo and played Mario on an old console television.

I’ll never forget the less-popular Mario 2 because of the excitement of watching my mom play. When she got to the boss at the end she couldn’t figure out how to win. I looked through the instruction book and found a hint that she needed to throw the food into its mouth. It was huge accomplishment for us when she won. You can’t tell me those memories aren’t meaningful because they revolved around a video game.

My cousin Adam was always bringing over games. We had the summer of Contra when he was the red guy and I was the blue guy and I’d always die and have to use his lives. And he’d fight the bosses at the end while I covered him with my “S” fire (he used the laser.)

Mario games were my specialty. I was unstoppable at Mario Cart. My sister was terrible. We loved when one of the versions had replays because then we could laugh as it showed us zooming around the course and then it would cut to a shot of Lisa as her car banged repeatedly into a wall as she tried to figure out how to get going again. She was always Luigi, which was annoying because her character would constantly say “I’ma Luigi!” We get it, Luigi. You’re mildly retarded and feel the need to constantly remind us who you are.

Recently my husband and I started playing a Legos Xbox game together. In regards to gaming choices we typically don’t have much in common but this game is a good compromise. We have fun and work together.

When I think about all of the games throughout the years, I’m reminded of all of the laughter. And while I can say when Josh was playing a lot of GTA he seemed to be a little more aggressive in his behavior afterwards, I can also say that the game has provided him with some fun times with friends and family. He recently broke out GTA again and played with his brother and I think it was the hardest I’ve ever heard him laugh.

My point is, video games are what people make of them. Old people used to bitch about kids watching too much tv. Now they bitch about video games. What it always boils down to is: does it enrich your life? If it does, then what’s the problem?

When I hear about people going on killing sprees and society blaming video games, I just have to shake my head. Society in general wants these easy fixes for what ails us. Someone going on a killing spree is a hell of a lot more complicated than them playing a video game. There’s so much more going on there. In a society plagued by laziness we look for simple fixes and easy scapegoats. And then we all jump on that bandwagon, “down with video games! They corrupt our children!”

In summary, video games were an important part of my childhood and remain in my life as an adult. People should stop pointing the finger at others, start pointing it at themselves, take some responsibility, make good decisions for themselves, and shut the hell up. I’ma Luigi, and that’s my two cents for the night.

My goal in the next few years is to develop a presentation about change. For many professionals, implementing change can be a seemingly impossible task. For me, I’ve been trying to implement change in long-standing systems ran by mostly elderly women. I see this as the ultimate challenge for making change and seeing progress.

I’m learning as I go and gaining valuable experience that I hope to use in my presentation. I must say that I come into this situation very green, but armed with more patience, intuition and empathy than most. So I really feel like this is something I can become a “pro” at. I hope that in the coming years I can take this on the road within my field and maybe expand to other areas, being paid to travel and present to groups.

For now, here are just a few of my thoughts. Simple as they may seem, when you’re muddling through big change, the key to survival has been: stick to the basics.

Saying “that’s how we’ve always done it” is basically saying “we have not made changes to keep up with the changing times.” When we hear ourselves say that, a red alert should go off in our brains. Things should change. They should evolve.

So if we have not changed… if we have always done things this way… then what are we missing? Because surely the world around us has changed.

Some might say “if it’s not broken, don’t fix it.” Those same people run the risk of completely overlooking what’s not working. They may have embraced a faulty system or dysfunction and don’t see it as being broken. They’ve settled for good enough.

Rachael Rosas

Before I tell you why I don’t believe, I’d like to first tell you why I did.

My religious life started in Sunday school in the Lutheran church. In junior high I started the two year process of Lutheran catechism which consisted of a class at the church every week. Each week we were given a list of Bible verses to memorize. Following the verse we also remembered a few sentences called “what does this mean?” which essentially told us how the Lutheran faith understood that particular verse. As you know, the bible pretty much reads the same to each Christian faith but it’s the interpretation that separates Christian religions. It’s why Lutherans don’t believe in worshipping with Presbyterians, Catholics, etc. They interpret the word differently.

The pastor at my church made it quite clear he didn’t care for me. Being a child who wanted to please authority figures I was bothered by that. But I was terrible at memorizing bible verses and I think he sensed how lackadaisical I was when it came to my weekly homework assignments. I wasn’t sure why he held disdain and contempt towards me. Then again, he didn’t strike me as an overly friendly man to anyone.

After two years I was confirmed as an official member of the Lutheran church. You can imagine the type of commitment that I had made. The thought of ever being excommunicated, or kicked out, of the church was horrifying. Shortly after being confirmed I found myself questioning my faith. However, I struggled with the fear that by merely questioning I’d be going to hell. I wanted to believe so bad. I felt safer when I could say that I believed. But this rational part of my brain wouldn’t let me drop the thought. I struggled with it for years regularly in fear that, because I knew that deep down I was questioning, surely I wouldn’t be good enough for god if there was one. Bear in mind, I was around 15 years old at this point. Still young and innocent, opinions easily swayed but starting to try to figure things out on my own. But weak. And easily frightened.

It took a few years but I talked myself back into god. My grandfather had died and relatives conveyed that in his last moments he spoke of going home. Surely he meant his eternal home in heaven. Several years later in 2007 my grandma passed away. This was probably the point where I was strongest in my faith. I didn’t question it and I let it guide my life.

In 2011 my life had reached its most stable point. However, I started to realize that it was less “faith” that comforted me and more of a new habit I had developed where when things got tough I would remind myself how small my problems were and that life is a roller coaster of ups and downs.

Then I started to question god again. But now I was older and not so scared. If gods real, then he gave me these reasoning skills and surely he didn’t want me to just blindly believe without testing my faith. What is unquestioned belief? Where does it lead? The history of humans shows unquestioned belief leading us to places like slavery and Nazi Germany. My rational side told me questioning was a good thing.

So in order to question my faith, I needed to start over fresh. Had I been born in another country where my faith was likely different I’d believe that mine was the one and true faith that would get me to heaven. Was I just so lucky to be born into the right faith? What made me so sure that it was the correct faith? Because it has a long history? What religion doesn’t? Because a lot of people follow it? Same thing. What it usually comes down to is the idea of faith. Faith that you happen to pick the right religion to follow. It’s what I like to call “gambling.”

Say you hadn’t heard of the bible at all. Then you start reading it. You’d think it was crazy talk. If you really read it, not just quoted the parts that sound nice to you, you’ll find it’s filled with crazy ideas and thoughts. But it’s not through the bible that most Christians find their faith. It’s passed down through church and family and it’s much easier to swallow. Most people who have read the bible, including the parts that say crazy things, are atheists.

So what excuse did I give for parts of the bible that seemed out of date, such as the man being head of the household and tattoos being a sin? Well, of course, I’d tell myself that it was an old book and written for old times. Yet my religion told me it was the word of god. A god who you would think wrote the book not just for the current times but for future people, being that he’s all-knowing.

Then again, as a Christian there was always some magical excuse for everything. If I couldn’t explain god, then I’d just say you have to have faith. The bible was to be interpreted differently. Maybe we’re all just worshipping the same god.

Before becoming an all out atheist I looked at what it meant to be agnostic. My thought was, if there’s a god and he’s pure and good and all-knowing then he wouldn’t need me to believe to want me to be with him. He’d recognize that my human knowledge is limited and that blind faith was useless. It’s a cult following a leader unquestioning and then, is he that good of a guy to want me to not use my brain?

The tree of knowledge was to be avoided in the Garden of Eden. How ironic that questioning, trying to learn is punished in the bible? Could it be that those who wanted power simply used the bible as a means to control populations? By making people fear an almighty being who could damn you to hell for all eternity, people became so willing to comply to the “word of the lord.” Knowledge is power. Religion hinders knowledge. It hinders science. It hinders truly looking for a purpose in life but instead living for what one thinks might happen in the hereafter.

And to this day people cling to it blindly, unquestioning. To venture into a scary world without the comfort of an eternal savior is too much. Yet here, on the other side as an atheist I fear for those who never really live. Those who waste their days because of the promise of something more after death. Those who never seek to truly know the wonders of this world that doesn’t need the magnificence and lore of the bible to be amazing. And I see how religion hurts us as a people. We justify the wrongs that we do to others by saying its part of our religion. We cater to religion as something sacred while completely missing what is truly sacred - the short blip of time we have here on earth.

I do not feel sad or lost as an atheist. Quite the opposite - I feel liberated. I feel like there’s so much to learn and regret the precious amount of time I wasted following a myth. I only feel sad when I see the pains caused by religion; the hateful nature of Christians as they see people with other religions or those with no religion at all as some sort of threat. In the name of their lord they cram their ideals down others throats. They take away the rights of others to live their lives as they choose. Their actions are based on fear and that’s scary to me. There are people so driven to do the work of their lord that they have lost a sense of humanity. They feel justified.

Today I identify with being an atheist. It’s hard to admit that in my circle. It’s by no means accepted and in many ways feared. Some people think I’ve just lost my way. But I feel like for the first time I’m seeing things clearly. I don’t want to have to hide who I am. I’ve been the Christian on the other side and I too looked down on non believers - seen them as threatening, misguided, ignorant. But today I can surely say that I’m not threatening, much less so than when I was a Christian, in fact. I’m not misguided; I’m more educated than ever and I’ve given this a great deal of thought. And I’m by no means ignorant. I’ve studied the bible and I’ve given religion a fair shot. For the first time I can say that I feel confident in my choice. And I have since quit the church I was once scared to be kicked out of.

When I think back to when I was a believer, I really spent a lot of time talking myself into it and conveniently ignoring things that I sensed weren’t right. On one hand it’s difficult to take on an unpopular opinion that you know those you care about will not like. On the other hand I am hard-wired to seek truth and I won’t just settle on something without questioning it and educating myself. In the end, I need to be me and that meant doing what I felt was right and asking questions, opening doors I hadn’t opened before. I was willing to consider another reality. Staying inside that religion cocoon might have been cozy but I would have not been content with not seeking the truth.

I am not a follower. I proudly blaze my own path and will experience this world on my own terms. I’ll live by my own code of standards and do things not for a reward in heaven but because it’s the right thing to do.

Not having anyone who shares a lot of your beliefs is a tough place to be. I’m probably a lot to blame for that because what I think about things changes as I learn new information. I’m an open-minded person and I consider the other side of an argument and change my own thoughts/behaviors if I conclude it’s warranted.

In other words, it’s hard to keep up with me. But I certainly don’t take my morals and beliefs lightly. I don’t take on a viewpoint to be part of a crowd or to stand out in a crowd. If I happen to align with the majority, great; if I’m part of a minority, that’s fine too.

Still it would feel nice to know some more “like-minded” people. I feel pretty isolated. I live in a small town. I’m the liberal vegetarian agnostic with tattoos and Pomeranians. There’s not exactly a herd of me floating around. There’s not a mold that I fit.

I also grew up disliking people like (present) me. Back then I didn’t give it much thought. If you weren’t like me, you were against me. Tough people eat meat. Vegetarians are pussies. People who don’t believe in God are evil or confused. People who smoke weed are losers. Of course gays shouldn’t be allowed to marry - the bible says!

I’m a completely different person now. During college I learned I could get by pretty well figuring things out on my own. I tested things that were previously off limits for questioning. I realized I shouldn’t fear learning and that I could become a better person than I was.

As I’m writing this two thoughts have occurred to me. I was awfully pretentious in my thoughts back then and I’m being awfully pretentious now. I don’t mean to be. I truly believe each person needs to decide what’s right for them and there’s no better answer.

But I feel defensive. I feel unaccepted and like I’m hiding myself. It’s like I’m some kind of lone wanderer and I’m just trying to blend in with people who don’t really want to hear what I think because they just aren’t comfortable with it. And even if they did get to know me better, they wouldn’t accept me for it. They’d want to “fix” me.

Tonight I read some old stories I wrote on this diary app I have on my phone. I can never make it through (writing) a story so for a while I’d just write scenes from a variety of random stories in my head.

There’s been enough time that I’ve forgot what each story was about so reading it was almost like reading someone else’s work. They’re small excerpts that left me wondering where the rest of the story would go from where I left off.

That seems to be my problem. I get so far and then I’m not sure where it goes. I think I try too hard to control it and need to learn the story myself as I go. I go back through what I wrote and I’m hard on myself for what really should be considered a rough draft. For example, I know this post could be worded better but it’s not something I’m going to spend time analyzing. Its the best way to get thoughts out quickly, but it’s not really fair to judge myself on that (but that doesn’t seem to stop me from criticizing myself.)

Some day I just want to finish one. I want to see an ending. For now I’ll deal with excerpts but someday one of these stories will take over and I’ll just be along for the ride.

Sometimes I look in people’s backyards and I miss a life I used to know. I fear it’s a life I’ll never know again - one of simplicity and innocence.

Back then I thought we were poor. Only now do I see how rich my life was. Fun was found in a tire swing, making a fort or sliding down a slip and slide. Adults sat in rickety lawn chairs around bonfires and laughed while they drank cheap beer. Back then I had a clearly defined family and I knew where I stood with them.

Now fun needs to be grand. Rickety lawn chairs are replaced with fancy back porches but nothing quite fills the hole in my heart left by my family tearing apart. People are complicated and relationships bear scars, some healing slowly, some not sure how to heal at all.

When I look at those backyards my heart aches for a simple time when I knew who I loved and who loved me. I long for a time before the complications caused by human emotions. I now realize when I had those things I was truly rich. It’s something I won’t take for granted again.

I’m tempted to write about how sad I’ve been feeling but 1) who wants to read that shit and 2) it won’t make me feel better.

Instead I’ll tell you about a time, many years ago, when I tried parting my hair on the side. I was in sixth grade and knew nothing about hair care, having always parted my hair down the middle.

For those who don’t know (perhaps any 6th grade readers I might have) one must train their hair to part differently. This involves parting it while wet and then drying. Apparently I did not make the decision to part my hair differently until after it dried. (Foreshadowing here, people. Keep up.)

This resulted in me having to keep my head tilted slightly to the side for the beginning portion of my school day to keep the part where it should be.

Lined up to head to our special’s class I can only imagine what Mr. Currell thought as he noticed me in line, head tipped to the side.

Walking down the hallway in single file wasn’t easy for sixth graders. We tended to want to bunch up with friends, much to the dismay of our teachers.

Mr. Currell, sensing that we were not following the single-file rule, halted our line to tell us to straighten up. At that same time my legs somehow became intertwined with my friends legs, causing me to fall.

My hands slapped loudly on the hallway floor. Thankfully my cat-like reflexes and fear of public embarrassment caused me to shoot back up into standing position. It appeared I hadn’t even fallen… Except my part was now utterly confused about it’s expected direction. In the short time it took Mr. Currell to stop and turn around, I was already back up again. Had it not been for the slapping of my hands on the floor and my now wild hairdo he wouldn’t have realized anything happened.

He looked confused and said, “Are you ok?” To this day I have no idea what he thinks happened. For all he knew someone just bitch-slapped me causing my hair to whip out of place. I just said, “yeah” like everything was fine and my disheveled hair was exactly how I wanted it.

Few things should be sacred to you… But there should be a few things.

Fear of showing emotion is still fear.

Choosing the hard path because you know it’s right is an honorable thing to do.

Those that don’t question their own thoughts, ideals, and beliefs live a shallow, sheltered life.

Passive faith isn’t really faith at all.

Our minds allow us to overlook things. When we consciously stop and address those things, we grow.

We grow through pain and discomfort. It serves a purpose.

There’s always a choice and the best ones are made after a night’s sleep.

Everyone’s favorite topic is themselves. The conceited think they are everyone else’s favorite topic. The socially awkward think that they are everyone else’s favorite topic as well.

The first people to give you advice are the ones with a similar problem who have also been unsuccessful in resolving it.

Lust is a powerful temptation to the lonely. It can overshadow things previously important.

If someone repeatedly tells you something about themselves, they’re usually trying to hide something negative. “I’m not a cheater,” means “I cheat constantly.” “I’m an honest person,” means “Don’t believe shit I say.” Think about it - if you’re not a cheater or you are honest, do you feel the need to tell everyone?

We lie the loudest when we lie to ourselves. Funny skill we humans have. But we’re really good at tricking ourselves into believing bullshit.

I hate fall. So here is a list of positive things about fall to make myself feel better.

1. It’s more comfortable weather to go for walks.
2. It’s easier to hide my forearm tattoos at work.
3. Bonfires keep you warm at night.
4. Halloween
5. I’m going to Florida in September.
6. Kids will be back in school.
7. I plan to get another tattoo in October if funds are available.
8. Mums are pretty fall flowers.
9. There are more holidays to decorate for.
10. Pumpkins are ok. I’m out of positives.