Mom & Me Four Archive

...while we were bathing her, if she had, indeed, prayed for herself the "night before".
    Coy glance at me, denoting embarrassment at having done so, "Yes, I did." Tone that told me she only did it because I asked her to.
    "Well, Mom, I have to tell you, in the journal about you and me I took a stab at how you probably constructed your prayer. Let me run this by you," whereupon I recited an almost word perfect version of what I'd written here.
    She hiccupped a short laugh that told me I was on the mark and she was surprised that I was. "Almost word for word! How did you know that? Do you know me that well?!?"
    "Well, Mom, first of all, it's probably thought for thought rather than word for word."
    "Whatever, it's awfully close."
    "And, yeah, I know you that well. There's some stuff I don't know, and you've still got surprises up your sleeve. Besides, you're still evolving, you know."
    By this time she was on her feet facing me for her torso washing. She performed a mean curtsy, holding on of her hands out as though she was lifting a skirt. "Well, thank you! I'm glad you think so!"
    "Oh, believe me, Mom, it's not just what I think. Your continued evolution is obvious to everyone who knows you."
    "Well, I just hope I'm e-volving and not de-volving."
    "I'm guessing the former, Mom, but, you know, I guess we all wonder that about ourselves and others, don't we."
    "True enough," she said.

    So, night before last I once again asked her to pray for herself. I'm sure she did, as, when I asked her, we got into a discussion about prayer yesterday. Her energy level was low, yesterday, so our day involved sedentary activities, which always lend themselves to conversation.
    Our conversation evolved into comparing and contrasting our attitudes toward (and, ultimately, beliefs about) prayer. My mother agrees with conventional wisdom that the best prayers are prayers for others. I'm sure she also thinks, although I believe it's a buried thought, that one receives points for prayers offered on behalf of others, especially if you pray for others when you, yourself, are in need. I asked her about this but she seemed confused about what I meant. There is a deeper motivation working in her, though, that allows her to consider the above wise: She is, and has always been, both highly independent and of the attitude that, well, whatever happens, you just deal; without sulking, without regret, without self or other recrimination, without angst, you just deal. This is what she's always done. It is to her advantage that, while she is deeply thoughtful, she is also deeply optimistic. I asked her if she believes Someone is Looking Out for Her. She said she didn't know, had never thought about it. I don't think she's ever thought she needs anyone to look out for her, even as she recognizes that many others do need This. Which, finally, is why her prayers are always and sincerely for and about others, rather than herself. She did mention that she rarely is tempted to pray for herself because she can't remember thinking that she needs Intervention. She added that the content of her prayers are usually expressions of gratitude and/or thoughts and observations "about my day."
    When I was a teenager wrangling with aspects of religion and spirituality, one of the issues with which I wrestled was the issue of prayer. I had intuited what my mother thinks about prayer; what most people think about prayer. I continually, though, snagged on the question, what if you're the kind of person for whom nobody wants to pray, who, in fact, others would much prefer to curse, maybe actively curse? Then what? At that time I had a fairly anthropomorphic conception of god, at least as far as god being "one", and sentient rather like humans. I also, however, reasoned that I certainly had more mercy for people, even the worst of people, than a god who would only listen to "unselfish" prayers. Thus, if I was at least this merciful, wouldn't it stand to reason, I thought, that a god would be powers and powers more merciful than me? Unless, of course, I considered, mercy is not a virtue. In which case, every single one of us was in serious trouble for a variety of reasons and Jesus was lying.
    "I don't think Jesus lied," my mother said, after I reviewed all the above in our conversation.
    "Because he is Divine, right?" I responded.
    "Well, I don't know about that."
    Some decades later, my conception of divinity and spirituality continually evolving, I became intrigued, having a fascination for both science and spirituality, with the dictum that one should look around one and study how the "world" "works" in order to "know god". I decided to apply this to the issue of prayer.
    Consider, I told myself at the time and told my mother yesterday, what our relationship to the parts of ourselves is. We consciously identify ourselves as units, yet we are actually complex systems comprised of googols of individuals and communities, right down to the elements we identify as the atomic structure of our cells and the void surrounding all the material bits we are. Suppose our relationship to god is similar to the relationship the unit we identify as "I" is to, say, a group of cells; the "I" being "god", our bits being, well, "I". Pretty scary thought. Most of the time, as god, we are unaware of our components. We only become even minimally aware of any of our components when we are experiencing physical discomfort or physical exhilaration. Both conditions cause us to respond to the sensation; either by doing something to attempt to alleviate the discomfort or extend and/or reproduce the exhilaration. Perhaps, if our relationship to our components is like god's relationship to us, the only prayer that god "hears" is the expression of discomfort or exhilaration. Superficially, one cannot well express someone else's discomfort or exhilaration: I.E., it initially seems like it makes little sense for a well functioning wheel to squeak on behalf of a wheel in need of repair; it takes longer to discover and correct the problem. Except, I took note, if acunpunture theory is involved. In this case, symptoms are often indicative of distress in other (considered to be related, although we often don't understand or perceive the relationship) parts of ourselves; a community perspective. Taking both these conditions into consideration, then, it is neither morally deficient to pray on one's own behalf, nor is it morally credible to pray on behalf of another; and, it seems, both intercessions can be considered "selfish".
    While I wound up my dissertation, to which my mother paid close, although, I'm sure, somewhat confused attention, I mentioned that, as I was talking it was occurring to me that perhaps "the void" that physicists have discovered comprises the bulk of any-"thing", including our-"selves", is "god". This, I said, would certainly fit with the idea that "god's" presence is in every-"thing" and every-"one". In fact, I went on, it is also most of what "we" are.
    "But," my mother said, "a void cannot forgive."
    "Hmmm..." I responded, "that is a problem. Let me think about that." I did, on the spot, and realized, "Oh, I get it! The void, because it is common to all of us, is forgiveness, of everything and everyone! Being aware of this is having the assurance that, ultimately, we are all forgiven everything!"
    "Well," she said, "I don't know about that."
    "You think, then," I said, "that some people are automatically condemned for their existence. By god."
    "I wouldn't go that far," she said. "I have no idea what God might condemn."
    "Well, the Abrahamic Bible is pretty clear on this and often states that its ideas are those of your god."
    "But the Bible was written by men."
    "What you're saying, then, is that men are bound to get it wrong?"
    "Well, yes, when it comes to knowing the mind of God."
    "Do you condemn anything?"
    "There are some things that I wonder about. There are some things I don't think are right. But I don't really know enough to be able to condemn anything."
    "Do you think that it's possible that "everyone ["might be" substituted for the original "is"] already be forgiven everything?" [I put this in quotes because it is a revelation granted me through an excellent friend in Seattle with whom I used to have mind and soul boggling conversations, who serendipitously and excitedly visited me, one day, just to share this revelation with me.]
    "It's certainly possible."
    "Do you forgive everyone everything?"
    "I try to. I'm not always successful, but when I'm not I'm aware that I should be."
    "Well, then, would you consider it reasonable to assume that if you at least see the the wisdom of Universal Forgiveness, god is not only capable of universal forgiveness but has already granted it, to the point of it being a non-issue on the level of divinity? And that reward and condemnation are strictly needs that are required by this system, not requirements of The Ultimate Reality in which we are encased?"
    "Well, you've lost me, there, child. I will say, though, that if you're thinking that we can understand the nature of God by understanding ourselves, right and wrong are important to us. So are forgiveness and not being able to forgive."
    Yep, that's right. Another thought to untangle on another day.
    Now, do you see why I stick closely with this woman, even in her Dementia-Lite, even as caring for her appears to overwhelm self-care? Finally, as I care for her, I do care for myself. I would even go so far to say that she and I are made for each other.
    Later.