I slept with a rosary--and I'm not Catholic.

have recently been learning how to use a Roasry. Before all H-E-double toothpicks breaks loose on here, let me tell you why. But first, a little background. (You knew it was coming...)

I am not Catholic. I have never been Catholic to the best of my knowledge. I came very, very close while dating my ex-boyfriend, but I just couldn't do it. There is more about the Catholic faith that eludes me then strengthens me. And I am most certainly not here to bash Catholics. If more people in the world were as devout as some of the Catholics I know, there would be significantly more peace in the world.

I have found, as of late, that the practice of the Rosary is an excellent focusing tool. Yes, I know. True Catholics will now throw things at me (and at that, I say "I take back all those nice things I said about you being peaceful!") because the Rosary isn't to be used as a focusing tool. Or so I'm told (admittedly by an ex-nun). However, I am not one who believes that rituals are what get one a spot beyond the Pearly Gates, and I therefore cannot understand the Rosary as more than a focusing prayer. From my understanding, that's what it was meant for in the first place.

What I am struck by is the ability of the Catholic Church (through years of tradition, I don't know) to continue this particular act. In a world where everyone is rushed, too busy, and barely has enough time to take their kids to yet another activity; this is a calming act. Being a beginner at this, it takes me roughly an hour to complete the rosary (I still contend that when I don't have to look at my "cheat sheet" of directions, it won't take as long as that). I honestly thought that with my notoriously short attention span (think chinchila on caffiene) that an hour would drag on and on--or worse, my brain would skip to other, more exciting thoughts. While it is a challange to reign in my imagination, I find it a wonderfully calming experience as well as a centering time for my soul to just...be. When all day long you are bombarded by phone calls from parents, kids, schools, bosses, and ill coworkers it is nice to feel completely centered even if the moment is fleeting.

Perhaps this is why people take such comfort in their Rosary beads. I still think that the beads themselves have no meaning--none. They are like the physical Bible--just a bunch of pages with ink. They are simply plastic beads. Their physical makeup is not important--it's what they mean that matters. I love my bible--it is the word of my G-d. But my rosary is a different idea all together. I don't know if these series of beads hold any 'mystic" powers--but I know that they represent a connection with a power so great that I cannot comprehend it. And anything that will help my mind calm down long enough to be in the loving arms of my Father for even a split second is worth it to me.

So, as many of you know, my twisted "gift" is to pick out movies that I think will be "safe" and that provide at least an ounce of wholesome-ness and then find out that I have actually stumbled upon a greusome horror movie, has been something of a pain to me. This "talent" reared its ugly head again yesterday as I accidently bought a movie that I thought would be a good crime drama. I like crime dramas--this was not one of those. "Wonderland"--sounds like a Disney movie, doesn't it. It is not. It is a twisted sort of greusome flick the likes of which I have only seen one other time--in Australia when I was convinced to see "The Proposition."

Anyway, the gorey scenes of this movie will likely haunt me for days, if not weeks. But, upon receiting the rosary last night, I was not afriad--for the first time in hours--of the sick and twisted nature of human beings. This is nothing short of miraculous as any person who knows me can attest. (I obsess about highly graphic things like that--playing them over and over again in my mind. It's something I wish I could rid myself of.)

But somehow, sleeping with a Rosary in your hand makes you feel a little bit better.

Welcome to my new blog. As I have become oh-so-annoyed with LiveJournal in the last couple of months, I have decided that I will try this once again. Last time, it worked well until I lost my password and couldn't remember my name and such. But, this should be fine.

In other news...I have had very strange dreams recently. Dreams that are so real, I could reach out and lick the people in them--should I desire to do such a random thing. They are logical--but illogical at the same time. Friends from my church in Australia (City Temple for those of you from Down Under), the school I attended (Kingsley) or random people from along the way (Justin, Gavin, our friends made in NZ) come to visit me. Logical, yes. Illogical, yes. Wonderful dreams...yes.

Being the constantly positive person that I am (yes, you are all free to groan and roll your eyes), I like to think of dreams as G-d's way of showing us movies. Like G-d's own little private theatre--just for me. However, what does it mean? Are dreams like this just one of the many ways G-d gives me a little hug each day? Or will I find out later on why I dreamed what I did when I did?

Does it even matter? My favorite line from The Matrix Trilogy...okay, let's try that again. ONE of my favorite lines from The Matrix trilogy comes from Matrix Reloaded when Morpheus and Lock are in the middle of a heated discussion regarding whether Morpheus and his posse will be allowed to leave. It begins with this long speel about Neo being "the one," with Lock emphatic denial that:

"G-d damn it, Morpheus! not everyone believes as you believe!"

Morpheus's response is calm, collected, and delivered completely straight-faced. I believe that he sums up my collective time at Community Action when he responds:

"My beliefs do not require them to."

Is it possible that it doesn't matter what we think about dreams, so long as they give us that little dose of hope we all need each day? Dreams, whether a message from G-d, us seeing what we want to see, or just the random firing of neurotransmitters in our brains, have inspired people for thousands of generations. The Aboriginees even have a special place in their society for dreams. Dreams are reflected in their artwork, language, religion, childrearing, and every other aspect of their lives. Cultures throughout the world, from the Native Inuit people to Aboriginees, to the Ancient Egyptians.

My challenge is to figure out where we lost this love, connection, and awe for dreams.