Three conversions, none more important than the other. 1. Away from heteronormative choices to appease family, toward authenticity as a gay man. 2. Away from the God I knew growing up, who picked and chose who they favored with blessing, to a deeper understanding of love and grace beyond the confines of religion. 3. Away from the need of certainty, toward a willingness to flow with the nuances of not needing to know.
A first conversion, in my teens, was the kind so often spoken of. To God, to a specific kind of fundamentalism that was both beautiful and binding. The second, at around 40, was the opposite of that. A turning (thank you T.S. Eliot) away from such a defined belief system and toward...well, everything else. A closing and an opening. Both heartbreaking and heart-healing.
Mmmm...like Santiago in The Alchemist. He had to take a long and vast journey to grow, in order to discover that the treasure he sought was at home the whole time, but, of course, he couldn't have appreciated it in the same way without the journey. So beautiful!! XO
An interesting note is that conversion and conversation come from the same Latin root: convertere. So in a sense, having a conversation about conversion is an overlapping circle. We are turning with each other on an abstract thought, as if a dance.
But to your point, my greatest conversion was meeting my husband, furthered by my marriage and having children with him. As a young woman, I was a bit lost. Men did not treat me well and I did not expect to be treated well. I was mentally ill and very self-destructive. I probably would not be alive now if it weren’t for the man I married. He converted me to life. Or at least a different life. And it was centered on faith which for many probably would not work, but it is what I needed. I needed anchoring.
I have an ongoing conversion of my poetry. I realize now my writing can transcend the literal and be about the ephemeral and eternal. It takes work, but it’s like a painting that has layer upon layer of image and you need to stare at it for a long time in order to see the next dimension. I think my poetry is starting to move in that direction. We will see if this conversion makes a decisive turn. Probably will take another decade for my writing to get measurably better.
This is lovely, Zina. Thank you for sharing. I love the visual of layers. Life has so many layers...like warm buttery croissants, and petaled flowers and rings in a tree trunk. I think our own layers are the same. XO
I had a conversion the night I was sitting in the church basement with Opie, a homeless man who could be a nuisance and Jose, an immigrant from Cuba. Jose came to me asking for a car fuse. He needed to go someplace in a hurry but it was raining and his wipers were not working. The church had diapers, bread, water, food, and clothing but no car fuses. Opie reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a small tin container. He slid the lid back and revealed a tin full of car fuses. Jose sorted through the collection, grabbed the one he needed, and headed out the door with great joy. I never thought Opie had much to offer until that night when the homeless one surprised us with the fuse. Who else had I disregarded, thinking they had nothing to offer? Out of his poverty, Opie provided great abundance.
Thanks so much for their question today. As a young woman religious I went to work in Latin America fifty three years ago thinking I was somehow a savior. I came to recognize that the Chilean people I lived and worked with there saved me!
1) the day I turned my will and my life over to the care of the God of my understanding - sobriety date 7/28/1995 2) lately I have been converted to seeing Love as the only way forward and the only way to heal what’s so broken in our world and political divisions. Peter Gabriel’s song LOVE CAN HEAL… the conversation that started in my heart led me to give up on trying to use convincing words to change the world and just settle into letting God love me and love through me
I think of all the people I have a hard time with — those individuals whom I simply don’t like. Individuals that rub me the wrong way. My dis-ease with them and dislike for these individuals may be for good reason, but it may not. My imagination helps here. I try to envision their life, their yearnings, and their struggles. I think of my own all-too-human tendencies. On a good day, this imaginative thinking turns my narrow perceptions upside down.
That is a very compassionate and wise thing to do, Michael. Seeing someone else deeply softens our hearts and expands our capacity for love and understanding and grows and frees you. We are all perfectly imperfect Humans on a journey. XO
Wise words, Nancy! We do resist sometimes. And then the thing keeps happening over and over and over until we realize that the only way out is going forward. It does take courage and vulnerability, sometimes, to take the next step. But it always makes us stronger. XO
Hallo all. Pádraig, I enjoyed your conversation with Don McKay. I loved that Mr. McKay admitted to being at the community garden when learning about his award; most anyone I’ve met who engages with community through gardening is someone with traits I admire.
I would have to say I have been converted from holding an “anti-Catholic” bias to knowing that people and institutions are complex; it’s necessary to get to know a person through their actions before sorting them into a category based solely on the religion with which they identify.
The reasons for my biased way of thinking were many: sex abuse committed and covered up; being denied communion while attending worship services (mass); the ability of the church to determine a woman’s fate in life in many ways including deciding to or not to annul a marriage; not allowing women to hold roles within the church; the Doctrine of Discovery; etcetera, etcetera.
But there I went and fell in love with and married a wonderful man who was raised in that faith! And the priest who came to a Protestant church to take part in the marriage ceremony. And Liz, neighbor who acts with compassion and kindness toward us. And Linda, friend who is committed to social justice. And the nuns! Nuns on the Bus, nuns who help people in tough transitions like moving from prison to life outside it. The Presentation sisters who work to find housing for people without it, who do their best to make sure that all people have enough to eat, and who consider every single person as a child of God.
And so I stand, not converted to another faith, but to considering others by many qualities, not solely on their religious affiliation.
I've had to summon the courage to leave two marriages that were draining life from me - as well as the dream of growing old together with a particular partner. However, I choose to cultivate joy in my other relationships & to live in a way that is nourishing to myself & others.
Dawn, sending you love. It is always a hard decision to turn away from someone, but when we realize the effect being around those people is having on us, it is the wisest and most loving and compassionate thing you can ever do for yourself. Thanks for being the kind of person that looks deeply within and has the courage to see your own value. XO
Dearest Padraig, what a relief it is to have you back.. While it's so clearly understand how you feel your "foreigner" -ness in these times, it's also true that we, I who was born here almost 77 years ago also feel like a foreigner, I venture to say most of us no longer recognize ourselves; not that this country wasn't holding massive and sickening paradoxes since its beginning, but now? It's so ugly and frightening. My conversions? Two. Converting to see as much beauty as I can -- mostly in nature, but also everywhere, esp. where I think it might least exist, and during the pandemic, dying flowers. Cheryl Strayed gifted us with her Mom's quote: Put yourself in the way of Beauty, and I have consciously practiced that path for the last 9 years as a form of gratitude and anti-depressant therapy. My second conversion, I joined a synagogue last year out of desperate loneliness and longing for community. It's a progressive, left-of-center congregation, with a God Salon to discuss all aspects NOT God, and a terrible holding of ourselves and our ancestors and the people (not government) of Israel, and holding of the Palestinian people.
Curious morning. Outside my window a thick fog has turned my expansive rural neighborhood into a very cozy, intimate space, this apartment where I live on the third, top floor of a 150 year old house. I am steeping tea, peppermint, that has sat in a box for ten years.
Conversion. I have been playing music for years. I enjoy improvisation. Let the first tone open the door to a journey, without a map. I don’t read printed music notation. Too much multi-tasking, maybe? About three years ago, I turned toward playing the Japanese Shakuhachi flute. The first year was more a fling. A very challenging flute, our meetings were momentary and frustrating. Then two years ago a friend suggested I join people around the world who, on October 8th, were going to play 108 Ro(the lowest tone on the Shakuhachi) as a form of prayer for peace. My Ro playing was simple, undeveloped, short of breath. I enjoyed this so much that ever since that day I warm up the flute with 108 Ro. Next, I wanted to recognise Japanese musical notation, curiously so different from Western notation. I couldn’t sit and memorize these strange symbols. I began composing simple music pieces using these symbols. It worked, I now can recognize basic Japanese musical notation. However my beginners skill level couldn’t play my own compositions. A year later and I am getting closer to playing these pieces. Dare I mention, again, this Shakuhachi flute is very challenging. So, here I am, improvising with various flutes, and at the center, arising, is a practice of playing 12 pieces written down, each one exploring through sound a poem by Ryokan. Daily I recite a poem, glance at the Japanese notation written before my eyes, and read what the next tone is to be. How did I get here? Don’t quite know.
As Ryokan wrote:
Bright moon- I walk through the rice fields
near my hermitage;
in the distance, mountains
Clothed in mist.
I gaze, again, out my window, still clothed in mist. 🏮
I can't stop thinking about those women, what they experienced and their commitment to not be "the thing" that happened to them. I guess I'd ask if it is a conversion or a return to the place that is our essence? Pure, sacred, limitless. I'm still waiting...
At 70, I left my marriage of 25 years, despite the fact that I did and still do love her. Our marriage was a passionate struggle to overcome past traumas which both of us carried into the relationship. We could not untangle this troubled knot together. I write, but had largely given it up due to stress, anger, and grief that our constant fighting caused each of us. I left a year ago to make my own way in a world that seemed unfamiliar and even cruel. A lot happened. It was extremely difficult. Despite even a cancer diagnosis, moving twice, buying and fixing up a small house, etc (really, etc etc) I have not once regretted turning away from what was harming two good people and finding my way into my life as a writer. This is the conversion that started many, many others.
I am 80 and in such a relationship…trauma bonding I’ve heard it called. So maybe my conversion has been to let go of the pain and hurt, to stop recalling it and be glad that after 56 years we recognize the knotting when it starts. We certainly have grown up with each other,have to give credit to AA for that, it helped more than 17 years of therapy.
My most profound conversion came via one of my children. Addiction gripped early and held tight. I fought back with an equally tight grip, determined to control and fix. Through their suffering, I suffered too; finally hitting my bottom when I could only plea for relief. So I released my grip and love held us both with soothing acceptance. I have never since been the same and am so grateful that child guided me to this place.
From evangelicalism/fundamentalism to just Christ and who he is, and whatever that continues to bring. Now with an Episcopal church that really opens the doors, really loves "the gays" and actively wants to worship with literally everyone. Sitting smack dab in the American deep South surrounded by Christian Nationalism, makes this not the most popular conversion. I am so grateful to God for it. So grateful his love is so much bigger than what I was taught.
Three conversions, none more important than the other. 1. Away from heteronormative choices to appease family, toward authenticity as a gay man. 2. Away from the God I knew growing up, who picked and chose who they favored with blessing, to a deeper understanding of love and grace beyond the confines of religion. 3. Away from the need of certainty, toward a willingness to flow with the nuances of not needing to know.
I can appreciate the wonder of your three conversions.
🙏🙏🙏❤️
A first conversion, in my teens, was the kind so often spoken of. To God, to a specific kind of fundamentalism that was both beautiful and binding. The second, at around 40, was the opposite of that. A turning (thank you T.S. Eliot) away from such a defined belief system and toward...well, everything else. A closing and an opening. Both heartbreaking and heart-healing.
Ah yes, T.S. Eliot.
“We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time.”
Mmmm...like Santiago in The Alchemist. He had to take a long and vast journey to grow, in order to discover that the treasure he sought was at home the whole time, but, of course, he couldn't have appreciated it in the same way without the journey. So beautiful!! XO
An interesting note is that conversion and conversation come from the same Latin root: convertere. So in a sense, having a conversation about conversion is an overlapping circle. We are turning with each other on an abstract thought, as if a dance.
But to your point, my greatest conversion was meeting my husband, furthered by my marriage and having children with him. As a young woman, I was a bit lost. Men did not treat me well and I did not expect to be treated well. I was mentally ill and very self-destructive. I probably would not be alive now if it weren’t for the man I married. He converted me to life. Or at least a different life. And it was centered on faith which for many probably would not work, but it is what I needed. I needed anchoring.
I have an ongoing conversion of my poetry. I realize now my writing can transcend the literal and be about the ephemeral and eternal. It takes work, but it’s like a painting that has layer upon layer of image and you need to stare at it for a long time in order to see the next dimension. I think my poetry is starting to move in that direction. We will see if this conversion makes a decisive turn. Probably will take another decade for my writing to get measurably better.
This is lovely, Zina. Thank you for sharing. I love the visual of layers. Life has so many layers...like warm buttery croissants, and petaled flowers and rings in a tree trunk. I think our own layers are the same. XO
Love your persistence and courage.
Congratulations from an 87 year old artist!
😘
Beautiful!
Thank you!
I had a conversion the night I was sitting in the church basement with Opie, a homeless man who could be a nuisance and Jose, an immigrant from Cuba. Jose came to me asking for a car fuse. He needed to go someplace in a hurry but it was raining and his wipers were not working. The church had diapers, bread, water, food, and clothing but no car fuses. Opie reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a small tin container. He slid the lid back and revealed a tin full of car fuses. Jose sorted through the collection, grabbed the one he needed, and headed out the door with great joy. I never thought Opie had much to offer until that night when the homeless one surprised us with the fuse. Who else had I disregarded, thinking they had nothing to offer? Out of his poverty, Opie provided great abundance.
A great story; thank you for sharing. People like Opie have become my teachers.
Thanks so much for their question today. As a young woman religious I went to work in Latin America fifty three years ago thinking I was somehow a savior. I came to recognize that the Chilean people I lived and worked with there saved me!
1) the day I turned my will and my life over to the care of the God of my understanding - sobriety date 7/28/1995 2) lately I have been converted to seeing Love as the only way forward and the only way to heal what’s so broken in our world and political divisions. Peter Gabriel’s song LOVE CAN HEAL… the conversation that started in my heart led me to give up on trying to use convincing words to change the world and just settle into letting God love me and love through me
I think of all the people I have a hard time with — those individuals whom I simply don’t like. Individuals that rub me the wrong way. My dis-ease with them and dislike for these individuals may be for good reason, but it may not. My imagination helps here. I try to envision their life, their yearnings, and their struggles. I think of my own all-too-human tendencies. On a good day, this imaginative thinking turns my narrow perceptions upside down.
That is a very compassionate and wise thing to do, Michael. Seeing someone else deeply softens our hearts and expands our capacity for love and understanding and grows and frees you. We are all perfectly imperfect Humans on a journey. XO
Yes, it’s about “seeing someone else deeply.” Thank you, Danielle!
More often than not, I do not think that we choose to be turned upside down or turned around.
And sometimes we resist. Part of conversion involves an openness to vulnerability.
I think my latest “conversion” involved sitting in confusion and mystery for a long while.
I still may not be on the other side of it. Or maybe that’s the whole idea... 🤔
Wise words, Nancy! We do resist sometimes. And then the thing keeps happening over and over and over until we realize that the only way out is going forward. It does take courage and vulnerability, sometimes, to take the next step. But it always makes us stronger. XO
I love this. My spiritual director has encouraged me to be okay with the unknown and I hope that that conversion is underway for me.
Hallo all. Pádraig, I enjoyed your conversation with Don McKay. I loved that Mr. McKay admitted to being at the community garden when learning about his award; most anyone I’ve met who engages with community through gardening is someone with traits I admire.
I would have to say I have been converted from holding an “anti-Catholic” bias to knowing that people and institutions are complex; it’s necessary to get to know a person through their actions before sorting them into a category based solely on the religion with which they identify.
The reasons for my biased way of thinking were many: sex abuse committed and covered up; being denied communion while attending worship services (mass); the ability of the church to determine a woman’s fate in life in many ways including deciding to or not to annul a marriage; not allowing women to hold roles within the church; the Doctrine of Discovery; etcetera, etcetera.
But there I went and fell in love with and married a wonderful man who was raised in that faith! And the priest who came to a Protestant church to take part in the marriage ceremony. And Liz, neighbor who acts with compassion and kindness toward us. And Linda, friend who is committed to social justice. And the nuns! Nuns on the Bus, nuns who help people in tough transitions like moving from prison to life outside it. The Presentation sisters who work to find housing for people without it, who do their best to make sure that all people have enough to eat, and who consider every single person as a child of God.
And so I stand, not converted to another faith, but to considering others by many qualities, not solely on their religious affiliation.
I've had to summon the courage to leave two marriages that were draining life from me - as well as the dream of growing old together with a particular partner. However, I choose to cultivate joy in my other relationships & to live in a way that is nourishing to myself & others.
Dawn, sending you love. It is always a hard decision to turn away from someone, but when we realize the effect being around those people is having on us, it is the wisest and most loving and compassionate thing you can ever do for yourself. Thanks for being the kind of person that looks deeply within and has the courage to see your own value. XO
Prayers and love for you. I have had to leave only one and it's not easy.
Dearest Padraig, what a relief it is to have you back.. While it's so clearly understand how you feel your "foreigner" -ness in these times, it's also true that we, I who was born here almost 77 years ago also feel like a foreigner, I venture to say most of us no longer recognize ourselves; not that this country wasn't holding massive and sickening paradoxes since its beginning, but now? It's so ugly and frightening. My conversions? Two. Converting to see as much beauty as I can -- mostly in nature, but also everywhere, esp. where I think it might least exist, and during the pandemic, dying flowers. Cheryl Strayed gifted us with her Mom's quote: Put yourself in the way of Beauty, and I have consciously practiced that path for the last 9 years as a form of gratitude and anti-depressant therapy. My second conversion, I joined a synagogue last year out of desperate loneliness and longing for community. It's a progressive, left-of-center congregation, with a God Salon to discuss all aspects NOT God, and a terrible holding of ourselves and our ancestors and the people (not government) of Israel, and holding of the Palestinian people.
Good morning, Padraig,
Curious morning. Outside my window a thick fog has turned my expansive rural neighborhood into a very cozy, intimate space, this apartment where I live on the third, top floor of a 150 year old house. I am steeping tea, peppermint, that has sat in a box for ten years.
Conversion. I have been playing music for years. I enjoy improvisation. Let the first tone open the door to a journey, without a map. I don’t read printed music notation. Too much multi-tasking, maybe? About three years ago, I turned toward playing the Japanese Shakuhachi flute. The first year was more a fling. A very challenging flute, our meetings were momentary and frustrating. Then two years ago a friend suggested I join people around the world who, on October 8th, were going to play 108 Ro(the lowest tone on the Shakuhachi) as a form of prayer for peace. My Ro playing was simple, undeveloped, short of breath. I enjoyed this so much that ever since that day I warm up the flute with 108 Ro. Next, I wanted to recognise Japanese musical notation, curiously so different from Western notation. I couldn’t sit and memorize these strange symbols. I began composing simple music pieces using these symbols. It worked, I now can recognize basic Japanese musical notation. However my beginners skill level couldn’t play my own compositions. A year later and I am getting closer to playing these pieces. Dare I mention, again, this Shakuhachi flute is very challenging. So, here I am, improvising with various flutes, and at the center, arising, is a practice of playing 12 pieces written down, each one exploring through sound a poem by Ryokan. Daily I recite a poem, glance at the Japanese notation written before my eyes, and read what the next tone is to be. How did I get here? Don’t quite know.
As Ryokan wrote:
Bright moon- I walk through the rice fields
near my hermitage;
in the distance, mountains
Clothed in mist.
I gaze, again, out my window, still clothed in mist. 🏮
Wow! Great for you! Playing a conventional metal flute is challenging enough!
I can't stop thinking about those women, what they experienced and their commitment to not be "the thing" that happened to them. I guess I'd ask if it is a conversion or a return to the place that is our essence? Pure, sacred, limitless. I'm still waiting...
Aho.
At 70, I left my marriage of 25 years, despite the fact that I did and still do love her. Our marriage was a passionate struggle to overcome past traumas which both of us carried into the relationship. We could not untangle this troubled knot together. I write, but had largely given it up due to stress, anger, and grief that our constant fighting caused each of us. I left a year ago to make my own way in a world that seemed unfamiliar and even cruel. A lot happened. It was extremely difficult. Despite even a cancer diagnosis, moving twice, buying and fixing up a small house, etc (really, etc etc) I have not once regretted turning away from what was harming two good people and finding my way into my life as a writer. This is the conversion that started many, many others.
I am 80 and in such a relationship…trauma bonding I’ve heard it called. So maybe my conversion has been to let go of the pain and hurt, to stop recalling it and be glad that after 56 years we recognize the knotting when it starts. We certainly have grown up with each other,have to give credit to AA for that, it helped more than 17 years of therapy.
My most profound conversion came via one of my children. Addiction gripped early and held tight. I fought back with an equally tight grip, determined to control and fix. Through their suffering, I suffered too; finally hitting my bottom when I could only plea for relief. So I released my grip and love held us both with soothing acceptance. I have never since been the same and am so grateful that child guided me to this place.
From evangelicalism/fundamentalism to just Christ and who he is, and whatever that continues to bring. Now with an Episcopal church that really opens the doors, really loves "the gays" and actively wants to worship with literally everyone. Sitting smack dab in the American deep South surrounded by Christian Nationalism, makes this not the most popular conversion. I am so grateful to God for it. So grateful his love is so much bigger than what I was taught.