I would like to state, before I say anything else, that I do not wish to sway, or change anyone's opinions or beliefs with this post. Believe what is real to you. All I am here to do is express what I have learned and share it with all of you. If you have not head of St. Francis of Assisi, here are some links to give you some knowledge, so you can better understand my blog:
1961 movie that I just watched about his life: https://youtu.be/rG5jVcYA1aM
In all honesty, I didn't like it as much as Brother Sun, Sister Moon, but it's still a lot more comprehensive in many ways than Brother Sun, Sister Moon.
Wikipedia article about St. Francis of Assisi: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francis_of_Assisi
As I mentioned before, I spent 8 years of my life in a traditional Catholic school. My story of how I got there is an unusual one. When I entered first grade, it was at Johnson Academy in Stratford, CT. My memory of this time is a bit fuzzy, but long story short, I did not belong. I was a strange child, with a vivid imagination and I did not like the structure of school. I could barely read or write and I remember my mind being like static, unable to comprehend a good bit, permanently off in my own world. Recently my mom came across my disciplinary file from back then and it was not only a good laugh, but a wealth of knowledge. I seem to have been a very spirited creature (yes, creature is probably the best word for my younger self) and was pretty much a real life cartoon character (which I'll admit that at times, I still very much am). If the class was doing a project that I didn't like, I simply did not do it and barked like a dog all throughout class. Apparently, a child psychiatrist whom the school sent me to go see thought I had Asperger's Syndrome and ADHD, and as with most children in my generation, they wanted me to go on Ritalin. My mom put her foot down, already being furious with my father for allowing them to put me in special ed, and wanted me to go to another school where I could learn without being scrutinized like a lab experiment. However, most private schools, Catholic or otherwise, were well outside of their price range. My grandmother whom I call Lulu, the one who's a hoarder, did one of the only decent things she's ever done by me in my entire 26 years on this planet. She had taken note of a school in Monroe, CT: A very small one, ran out of the basement of a traditional Catholic church, with only 50 students at most (the numbers dwindled through the years). She told my mom that the nuns who ran it were very old fashioned, still wearing the full habits (No laymen's clothing or sheer veils for them!)and seemed very nice. So, my parents and I checked it out. Mind you, I was 6 years old and had never seen a nun in my life at this point, but I think I probably put my best foot forward and introduced myself to the mother superior, saying something to the effect of, "Hello, my name is Ariana Mucci and my favorite color is pink!" The whole concept was foreign to me, and I remember asking my parents if it would be a boarding school, like in The Little Princess(I related everything to what I had seen in movies, since I lacked interaction with other children in my age group. This probably is from where my tendency to relate things to pop culture stemmed)to which she assured me that it was not.
I would be lying if I said that I took to Catholic school, and the Catholic faith in general, like a duck to water. While I liked that I finally found out to whom the lady in the creche scene is, I didn't like that church was an hour longer than it was at our Advent Christian church, and I really didn't like that children were expected to be present all through the Mass. This was a great departure from being taken out halfway through and brought into the "Sunday school" room and fed doughnuts. I also hated my ugly, scratchy uniform and didn't care much for my first grade teacher, a nun named Sister Mary Rose. She wasn't the worst, but still would accuse me of doing things that I did not do and sometimes I felt she was more heavy-handed with me than with other children, since I didn't come from a family of 16 or been praying the Rosary since fetushood.
I'd like to interject right here, before I forget, that when I say "traditional Catholic", I'm referring to the form of Catholicism that was universal before the reforms that happened in the Second Vatican Council in the 1960's. I've been to the modern Catholic Mass, and while I find comfort in being around anyone who loves God and Jesus, I find the ceremony itself annoying as hell. Excuse my frankness, but I really dislike acknowledging the other parish members as a part of the Mass (you know, that Handshake of Peace thing...it makes my skin crawl)not to mention after many years of slowly but surely learning and understanding Latin, it kind of feels chintzy to hear the entire Mass in English. Some people like the changes and I respect their opinions, however, I will be sticking with the old ways myself.
Back to the story of St. Dominic's Academy. While I can't say that it was all peaches and cream, in fact, some memories are American Horror Story: Asylum-esque to put it nicely. I still look back on some parts of those days with a great bit of nostalgia. If it was all bad, I wouldn't be teary-eyed as I write this. For every instance of hatred and discrimination aimed at me, there were many more instances of God's endless mercy shown to me. In general, I think back far more fondly on the priests that I've met than the nuns that I've met (hence why I bristle so much when people try making every priest out to be a pedophile).
I've been told many times, whether by friends or lovers, that I am "too intelligent to be a Catholic". To me, there is no greater insult. Just because I love God does not mean that I cannot appreciate the marvels of science and the world around me. I appreciate other creeds and paths of life as well. Heck, I once went on a 4 day camping retreat with 99.9% Wiccan/Pagan individuals during a time in my life when I was feeling very vulnerable and in great need of healing. I listened to what they said, I received tarot and crystal ball readings, etc. and in a way, it was beneficial, but I did not feel the cool, sweet wave of being one with God, the Universe, all that is good that I get when I am kneeling at Mass, breathing in the frankincense, and meditating upon what I can do to give back to the Creator for all He has given to me. I did not get the same sense of wonder in those woods and in the drumming circle around the campfire that I got when I traveled to the Shrine of the North American Martyrs in Auriesville, NY, where much blood was shed and lives were sacrificed. (Actually, in retrospect, it's kind of awkward that I felt such a feeling of peace there, since I do have much respect and admiration for Native American culture, but at the same time I understand things from the perspective of the missionaries as well.)I'm not belittling the path of Wicca, or any other faith, by any means, as I see quite a bit of truth in that path as well, just saying that the belief system that gives me the most sense of purpose and peace is the one that dates all the way back to Christ Himself, taught by St. Francis of Assisi as well. I especially love St. Francis because of his love of animals. Since I used to be a people person, but people kind of ruined it for me, I've grown disillusioned from the greedy, corrupt, and downright depressing society that mankind allows itself to be enslaved to, and I wish in many ways that I could be a part of wildlife or a Catholic Hobbit (yes, I'm aware that such a group of people exist), where I can live in a society that lives in harmony with Nature, while still worshiping the way I have all along. Sometimes, I even wish I could be a hermit, and only have to interact with people if I so wish, and just live secluded in a little cabin with lots and lots of animals. Unfortunately, because of mankind's greed and lust for control, it's looking more and more impossible to be able to do this without being a millionaire already, which kind of defeats the purpose. I can't just cast off all my earthly belongings and go live in the woods or the outskirts of town, because the infernal state owns the woods and the outskirts of town is yet another friggin town. However, if I've learned nothing else from Catholic school, it's that where there is a will, there is a way, and maybe, somehow I will be able to fulfill my dream, the only thing I've ever wished for myself, of living a peaceful and preferably solitary life, caring for unwanted animals and giving them a happy home until they are adopted.
This brings me to the topic in the title: Self-love and how I've always struggled to wrap my mind around this concept.
It's hard nowadays to be able to eat, breathe, or fart in peace without hearing someone tell me or someone else, "YOU GOTTA LOVE YOURSELF!" and RuPaul's classic line, "If you can't love yourself, how the hell you gonna love anybody else?"
Okay, let's put aside the obvious implications that arise from the dirtiest part of my mind involving Hitachi massagers and ask this: What the does it mean to love yourself and how it is accomplished? I got so tired of hearing this that I decided to Google it one day. I came across a wealth of information, most of which sounded like the cheesy self-esteem class from that one episode of Daria, until I settled on a few articles written about self-love from the perspective of the One Great Commandment that summarizes all of the Ten Commandments: "Love Thy Neighbor as Thyself". If I can find the article, I'll post it in a comment to this blog. The author explained that Christians as a whole are taught to treat each other how they want to be treated, but not a lot of emphasis is put on how to treat oneself. The author also went on about how loving oneself basically means letting go of the past, not comparing oneself to others, and other misery-making habits. I saw a lot of merit in the article, but still, something about it wasn't sitting too well with me, so I did a lot of soul searching and contemplation about another concept that I was raised with: humility.
Humility, as defined by dictionary.com, is defined as: "the quality or condition of being humble; modestopinion or estimate of one's own importance, rank,etc."
That's a nice, concise definition, but I tend to like this definition, using Bible references, a little more: a prominent Christian grace (Rom. 12:3; 15:17, 18; 1 Cor. 3:5-7; 2 Cor. 3:5; Phil. 4:11-13). It is a state of mind well pleasing to God (1 Pet. 3:4); it preserves the soul in tranquillity (Ps. 69:32, 33), and makes us patient under trials (Job 1:22). Christ has set us an example of humility (Phil. 2:68). We should be led thereto by a remembrance of our sins (Lam. 3:39), and by the thought that it is the way to honour (Prov.16:18), and that the greatest promises are made to the humble (Ps. 147:6; Isa. 57:15; 66:2; 1 Pet. 5:5).It is a "great paradox in Christianity that it makes humility the avenue to glory."1961 movie that I just watched about his life: https://youtu.be/rG5jVcYA1aM
In all honesty, I didn't like it as much as Brother Sun, Sister Moon, but it's still a lot more comprehensive in many ways than Brother Sun, Sister Moon.
Wikipedia article about St. Francis of Assisi: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francis_of_Assisi
As I mentioned before, I spent 8 years of my life in a traditional Catholic school. My story of how I got there is an unusual one. When I entered first grade, it was at Johnson Academy in Stratford, CT. My memory of this time is a bit fuzzy, but long story short, I did not belong. I was a strange child, with a vivid imagination and I did not like the structure of school. I could barely read or write and I remember my mind being like static, unable to comprehend a good bit, permanently off in my own world. Recently my mom came across my disciplinary file from back then and it was not only a good laugh, but a wealth of knowledge. I seem to have been a very spirited creature (yes, creature is probably the best word for my younger self) and was pretty much a real life cartoon character (which I'll admit that at times, I still very much am). If the class was doing a project that I didn't like, I simply did not do it and barked like a dog all throughout class. Apparently, a child psychiatrist whom the school sent me to go see thought I had Asperger's Syndrome and ADHD, and as with most children in my generation, they wanted me to go on Ritalin. My mom put her foot down, already being furious with my father for allowing them to put me in special ed, and wanted me to go to another school where I could learn without being scrutinized like a lab experiment. However, most private schools, Catholic or otherwise, were well outside of their price range. My grandmother whom I call Lulu, the one who's a hoarder, did one of the only decent things she's ever done by me in my entire 26 years on this planet. She had taken note of a school in Monroe, CT: A very small one, ran out of the basement of a traditional Catholic church, with only 50 students at most (the numbers dwindled through the years). She told my mom that the nuns who ran it were very old fashioned, still wearing the full habits (No laymen's clothing or sheer veils for them!)and seemed very nice. So, my parents and I checked it out. Mind you, I was 6 years old and had never seen a nun in my life at this point, but I think I probably put my best foot forward and introduced myself to the mother superior, saying something to the effect of, "Hello, my name is Ariana Mucci and my favorite color is pink!" The whole concept was foreign to me, and I remember asking my parents if it would be a boarding school, like in The Little Princess(I related everything to what I had seen in movies, since I lacked interaction with other children in my age group. This probably is from where my tendency to relate things to pop culture stemmed)to which she assured me that it was not.
I would be lying if I said that I took to Catholic school, and the Catholic faith in general, like a duck to water. While I liked that I finally found out to whom the lady in the creche scene is, I didn't like that church was an hour longer than it was at our Advent Christian church, and I really didn't like that children were expected to be present all through the Mass. This was a great departure from being taken out halfway through and brought into the "Sunday school" room and fed doughnuts. I also hated my ugly, scratchy uniform and didn't care much for my first grade teacher, a nun named Sister Mary Rose. She wasn't the worst, but still would accuse me of doing things that I did not do and sometimes I felt she was more heavy-handed with me than with other children, since I didn't come from a family of 16 or been praying the Rosary since fetushood.
I'd like to interject right here, before I forget, that when I say "traditional Catholic", I'm referring to the form of Catholicism that was universal before the reforms that happened in the Second Vatican Council in the 1960's. I've been to the modern Catholic Mass, and while I find comfort in being around anyone who loves God and Jesus, I find the ceremony itself annoying as hell. Excuse my frankness, but I really dislike acknowledging the other parish members as a part of the Mass (you know, that Handshake of Peace thing...it makes my skin crawl)not to mention after many years of slowly but surely learning and understanding Latin, it kind of feels chintzy to hear the entire Mass in English. Some people like the changes and I respect their opinions, however, I will be sticking with the old ways myself.
Back to the story of St. Dominic's Academy. While I can't say that it was all peaches and cream, in fact, some memories are American Horror Story: Asylum-esque to put it nicely. I still look back on some parts of those days with a great bit of nostalgia. If it was all bad, I wouldn't be teary-eyed as I write this. For every instance of hatred and discrimination aimed at me, there were many more instances of God's endless mercy shown to me. In general, I think back far more fondly on the priests that I've met than the nuns that I've met (hence why I bristle so much when people try making every priest out to be a pedophile).
I've been told many times, whether by friends or lovers, that I am "too intelligent to be a Catholic". To me, there is no greater insult. Just because I love God does not mean that I cannot appreciate the marvels of science and the world around me. I appreciate other creeds and paths of life as well. Heck, I once went on a 4 day camping retreat with 99.9% Wiccan/Pagan individuals during a time in my life when I was feeling very vulnerable and in great need of healing. I listened to what they said, I received tarot and crystal ball readings, etc. and in a way, it was beneficial, but I did not feel the cool, sweet wave of being one with God, the Universe, all that is good that I get when I am kneeling at Mass, breathing in the frankincense, and meditating upon what I can do to give back to the Creator for all He has given to me. I did not get the same sense of wonder in those woods and in the drumming circle around the campfire that I got when I traveled to the Shrine of the North American Martyrs in Auriesville, NY, where much blood was shed and lives were sacrificed. (Actually, in retrospect, it's kind of awkward that I felt such a feeling of peace there, since I do have much respect and admiration for Native American culture, but at the same time I understand things from the perspective of the missionaries as well.)I'm not belittling the path of Wicca, or any other faith, by any means, as I see quite a bit of truth in that path as well, just saying that the belief system that gives me the most sense of purpose and peace is the one that dates all the way back to Christ Himself, taught by St. Francis of Assisi as well. I especially love St. Francis because of his love of animals. Since I used to be a people person, but people kind of ruined it for me, I've grown disillusioned from the greedy, corrupt, and downright depressing society that mankind allows itself to be enslaved to, and I wish in many ways that I could be a part of wildlife or a Catholic Hobbit (yes, I'm aware that such a group of people exist), where I can live in a society that lives in harmony with Nature, while still worshiping the way I have all along. Sometimes, I even wish I could be a hermit, and only have to interact with people if I so wish, and just live secluded in a little cabin with lots and lots of animals. Unfortunately, because of mankind's greed and lust for control, it's looking more and more impossible to be able to do this without being a millionaire already, which kind of defeats the purpose. I can't just cast off all my earthly belongings and go live in the woods or the outskirts of town, because the infernal state owns the woods and the outskirts of town is yet another friggin town. However, if I've learned nothing else from Catholic school, it's that where there is a will, there is a way, and maybe, somehow I will be able to fulfill my dream, the only thing I've ever wished for myself, of living a peaceful and preferably solitary life, caring for unwanted animals and giving them a happy home until they are adopted.
This brings me to the topic in the title: Self-love and how I've always struggled to wrap my mind around this concept.
It's hard nowadays to be able to eat, breathe, or fart in peace without hearing someone tell me or someone else, "YOU GOTTA LOVE YOURSELF!" and RuPaul's classic line, "If you can't love yourself, how the hell you gonna love anybody else?"
Okay, let's put aside the obvious implications that arise from the dirtiest part of my mind involving Hitachi massagers and ask this: What the does it mean to love yourself and how it is accomplished? I got so tired of hearing this that I decided to Google it one day. I came across a wealth of information, most of which sounded like the cheesy self-esteem class from that one episode of Daria, until I settled on a few articles written about self-love from the perspective of the One Great Commandment that summarizes all of the Ten Commandments: "Love Thy Neighbor as Thyself". If I can find the article, I'll post it in a comment to this blog. The author explained that Christians as a whole are taught to treat each other how they want to be treated, but not a lot of emphasis is put on how to treat oneself. The author also went on about how loving oneself basically means letting go of the past, not comparing oneself to others, and other misery-making habits. I saw a lot of merit in the article, but still, something about it wasn't sitting too well with me, so I did a lot of soul searching and contemplation about another concept that I was raised with: humility.
Humility, as defined by dictionary.com, is defined as: "the quality or condition of being humble; modestopinion or estimate of one's own importance, rank,etc."
I honestly don't think I have the authority to say one way or another if self-love can coexist with humility, so suffice to say that this very subject is something I'll leave up to individual interpretation. All that I know for certain is that I myself have sinned and am flawed. To me, the idea of self-love is kind of "resting on one's laurels" and it makes self-improvement much harder when one is full of pride as is. Like in the prayer of St. Francis, I get a lot more of a feeling of accomplishment not out of glorifying myself, but out of doing what I feel is right, using my discerning abilities and moral compass. Yes, I understand that what may seem right to me may seem completely wrong to someone else, but that's where the concept of belief comes in. Yes, I know there are people like Carl Sagan whom are famous for saying, "I don't want to believe, I want to know", but that leads me to another point. When Carl Sagan was a young boy, do you think he knew from the get-go that he was going to be an astrophysicist, or do you think maybe he became that because he believed he could? So, yes, even the most logical of people have to believe in the unknown.
When it comes to just lil' ol' me, I tend to think that humility is what drives me to do good and accomplish things. No, I'm not trying to say I'm the most humble person ever, just saying it is that drives me. Yes, I'm kind of crazy. Yes, I've made some huge mistakes. Yes, I get severely depressed and feel like I'm never going to accomplish anything and want to shitcan everything. Yes, I get nihilistic and feel like the world would be the same, or even better, if I were to never have existed. However, it's these things that motivate me to do good to others, especially the most helpless of God's creatures. A lot of people (like immediate family members) try to dissuade me from doing charitable things to others and to focus on my family and myself, and to which I kind of have to point out that if they didn't want me to be like this, then maybe sending me to Catholic school where I learned about the lives of saints who pissed their husbands off by bringing lepers into their royal bed (St. Elizabeth of Hungary), and even like St. Francis, left their families to go pursue their own God-given path. That didn't mean that they didn't love or care about their family members, no matter how mad their families were about their life choices. St. Catherine of Sienna, for example, is said to have gone through unspeakable pain and torture by willingly taking on some of her father's Purgatory sentence.
Well, I think I've come to the winding down point where I have to make a cohesive whole out of this ramble. Self-love might be well and fine for some people, but for me, loving yourself when you feel you've done nothing to merit this love is just empty. I see St. Francis of Assisi, a man who is wise, holier, and admirable, and I see no self-love in him. Was he without love though? Absolutely not. So...sorry, RuPaul, but I'm going to have to agree to disagree with you on this one. If you love people, regardless of whether they love you or whether you'll get anything in return, then you might just realize that being selfless is its own reward. I look at my life and see many instances where someone was only kind because it was a means to an end and then there is no question in my mind about why so many people have trust issues. This goes back to what I've said in past entries where I compare and contrast the "Lone Wolf" lifestyle that so many people are taught vs. the "Wolf Pack" lifestyle of helping one another rather than trampling all over each other to get ahead. Instead of bitching and moaning about what a dark, cruel place the world is, why not try to change it by being a good example, like St. Francis did. The best part is, you don't need to be a saint to do it either.To all those people, regardless of creed or social standing, who take it upon themselves to practice random acts of kindness and ask nothing in return, good on you, keep it up! :)
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