I know, I know, I’m moving on right? Well, I’m trying to, but this background research paper on the church by a journalist for the Australian Broadcasting Corporation is a fitting coda, I think. (Thanks to Gavin for the tip.)

I’ve progressed through a lot of emotions, over the last couple of years, as I have finally come to terms with what my childhood meant and resulted in for me. I freely admit, there are moments when I still regress, back to a comfortable and safe reaction. I’m trying to recognize that when I do it, and at least minimize the effects, if not necessarily eliminate them.

I have definitely reached a point where I can now accept that the church is an integral part of my past, and that it has shaped everything that I am. Whether or not that has negative or positive effects, here in the present however, is entirely my doing.

But read Scott Lupo’s paper. It is a good, neutral, and thorough overview of life lived, in a parallel universe, whose wormhole is shrinking closed, ever-so-slowly.

Soon, my friends, we will live entirely in a universe where there are, at best, a handful of small Church of God congregations (I include Junior’s fiefdom in this.) We will be the last survivors of an age that truly never was.

A bittersweet victory, to be certain, but one that provides a cautionary parable. We, alone, can stand outside of the control of other closed, high-demand groups, and say, “Wait, this doesn’t look good.” We have been here before, and we know what to watch for. We can be sentinels, based on our pasts, warning of petty prophets and false Armageddons, into the future.

Read Scott Lupo’s paper. It is a better coda to this site, than even I could provide.

Things in my life that I am grateful for:

1. I have a well-paying job that I like that does not appear to be endangered (at this moment) by the fluctuating economy.

2. I own my own home, which is in a small community, where I am surrounded by family and friends.

3. My family loves me. Unconditionally. There are no “if onlys”, no rules or regulations or unrealistic expectations required for them to love me, nor do they place undue demands upon me to meet any such expectations.

4. I love my family deeply in return, in the same way.

5. All of my physical needs and requirements are met, even far exceeded, by my current level of income and chosen lifestyle. I have access to a vast wealth of resources that keeps me emotionally and physically grounded.

6. My intellectual and spiritual needs (which I believe are one and the same) are constantly being challenged, expanded, and I am free to explore them as I will, with absolutely and completely unfettered abandon.

7. I am not angry, nor am I bitter, about my past in the church. I never was either of those things, actually. The way things ended, just left me very, very confused.

I’m not confused anymore. And, looking back over the many and varied years of my life, I’ve got to say, it wasn’t all that bad. Sure, my life would have been different, if my family had not been involved in a toxic religion. But they were, and I was a true believer moreso than they even were, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. No amount of wailing and gnashing of teeth is going to change the past.

And really, why would I want to change the past? For better or worse, my past has made me everything that I am, or strive to be: Compassionate towards others, passionate about seeking justice for those who have been and are still being wronged, easily adaptable to change, ambitious, strong, and resilient, with a high level of perseverance, even in the face of adversities that would reduce others to quivering heaps of Jell-O.

I might have had those character traits regardless of whether or not I was born and raised in the church (the old nature versus nurture debate), but they might not have been expressed quite as strongly as they have been, if I had not lived exactly the life I have lived, up to this very moment.

And you know what? I AM free. I may not have had any lightning bolt epiphanies, I may not have created a personal god for myself, I may not have had that thunderstruck “moment of joy” others speak of — but I HAVE changed, in the twelve-plus years since I’ve exited the church. Not all at once, not in one fell swoop, but in tiny measures. A step at a time.

I am trying, and succeeding slowly, to not have unreasonable expectations. Things no longer have to be perfect, before they are just “OK”. And even if things are not OK, then it’s time to hunker down and practice those survival skills I’ve honed so well.

I have lived more places, in this country, than the average citizen may ever get to see, in a single lifetime. All of these places and people and events, even though I was “in the world but not of the world”, have shaped me into who I am today.

I don’t need any delirious, unreasonable, hysterical “joy”. Those kinds of highs are almost always accompanied by crashes. Sitting, and breathing, and getting through each day. Each morning brings another day, sometimes better, sometimes worse. This, alone, is consistent, for whatever fleeting amount of time I have left in this all-too-short average human lifespan.

I no longer feel pressured, nor tormented, nor do I feel any kind of “tug”, yea or nay, from Pascal’s Wager. I am by no means in some nirvana, blissed-out stoner state. But I have reached an equanimity with it all. ALL of it. It could be maturity, it could just be dog-tired, bone-deep weariness, but the pendulum has stopped swinging now. Things are not ALL good or ALL bad, with no resting state in between.

The world is hardly under any kind of devil’s dominion. Everything is a riot of colour, and sometimes, during the quiet and uneventful moments, things drift into a calming shade of grey. Fortunately never for too long. Everything in moderation, too much of anything can be toxic, etcetera, etcetera.

I have achieved, and am continuing to pursue, many of my major goals in life. I have done this, despite circumstances being aligned in such a way that I would have had perfect justification, in simply giving up.

I’m tenacious like that, for better or for worse. A stubborn streak left-over from the days when I clung to my toxic theology? Perhaps. I have dispensed with the theology, and can sometimes still be bull-headed (especially when I’m wrong), but for the most part, it has otherwise served me well, and I hope it will continue to do so.

I am constantly moving forward, even when it seems (to myself or others) that I am standing still.

“The teacher said to them, ‘When they ask you, what is the evidence of the Pleroma in you?’ Say to them, ‘It is motion and rest.’”

Motion and rest. Each has their uses. Each would be nothing without the other.

Am I deliriously happy, suffused with joy, over the moon with hysterical delight? No. But I’m not that type of person, anyway (and that really IS nature, not nurture).

Am I grateful for all the things I have done and seen and experienced, and all the places I have been in my life, good bad, or indifferent? Yeah, actually, I am.

What I have outlined above may not meet anyone else’s criteria for happiness. It doesn’t matter. After all, it is my happiness, not someone else’s, nor should I let it be defined or pre-judged, by other people with different perspectives and experiences.

Happiness is as happiness does. I think it’s time I got out a little more, and started practicing more of that motion, as opposed to rest.