Soul's unrest.

Deep down, were our souls once equal and interconnected, then isolated by our encounters with divisive factors, such as difference of opinion?

I have a handful of issues in my life weighing on me at the moment.  Yesterday I was able to post a few entries I’d compiled over the past eight months, and the move proved cathartic, so I find myself ready for another session of outpouring words from my heart.

Last year I finally decided to inform my family of my intention to break away from their religion (a religion in which I was born and in whose values I was raised) in order for me to be free to explore other spiritual pursuits.  The decision has both freed me and haunted me ever since.  The situation is quite complicated, as my entire family is very much devoted to this religion (with the exception of my youngest brother; he, like me, is still on a spiritual quest).  I used to be a choir member, an officer of the children’s services on Sundays, and even participated in committees designated for propagation of the faith.  I used to get into heated debates with my friends about the existence of God and the purpose of mankind, all in defense of my, then, religion.  But years of soul searching have led me to this point in my life – where I feel like no one has it completely right, but no one has it completely wrong, and that everyone should do what feels right for them, whatever makes them feel at peace and connected to their own spirituality, whatever inspires and uplifts them in life.

My family, for the most part, has been very open about feelings and beliefs.  It was no secret to any one of them when I finally opened up last year about wanting to officially remove myself from the church.  I had been questioning the religion and the execution of its creeds for years; at times emerging reinvigorated in the faith, but most times feeling no spiritual connection at all.  I struggled to reconcile my feelings with the actual “practice” of religion.  I thought to myself – how could I possibly stay when I don’t truly believe in this religion?  The answer was simple enough to deduce, but didn’t sit well with most of my family when I told them I wanted out, and still doesn’t.  In most encounters I’ve had with them since, they’ve made it a point to remind me of their disapproval and disappointment, whether directly or subversively.

I don’t want to delve into the logistics of the consequences within the church that will follow my official exit.  This isn’t about that.  I don’t want to portray my family’s religion in a negative light.  The heart of the matter is about contentment of the soul.  For so long I grappled with my soul’s unrest, with emotional and psychological battery brought about by fear of losing my relationship with my family over the decision to be true to myself and my spiritual journey.  And it still plagues me now.

It’s difficult for me to find comfort in my situation because there aren’t many people who can relate to my experience, not many people who could offer insight into the depth of impact that my religious exodus may have on me and my family.  I’ve spoken to a few friends from my family’s church who’ve either already left the religion or are planning to leave, and no matter what words of encouragement I’m offered, the torturous feelings in my heart never truly dissipate.

When family bonds hang in the balance, I feel like a prisoner of war.  I don’t like being placed in a position where I have to choose between opposing sides, especially when I don’t feel that there should be opposition between those sides in the first place.  I would love if my family and spiritual path could co-exist without clashing, but that type of wishful thinking will get me nowhere.  It doesn’t produce a solution, and, in fact, promotes avoidance of the issue, which is far from my stance at this time.

I am exhausted.  I’ve ruminated long enough to understand that as much as I feel like a hostage of my family’s actions, they must feel hostage to my actions as well.  If things should turn out badly, I fear I will take full ownership of the destruction of my relationship with my family… all because I prioritized being true to myself over living a lie.  Sometimes I think I’m doing a noble thing; other times I just don’t know.