Memoir

/ˈmemˌwär/ noun. a record of events written by a person having intimate knowledge of them and based on personal observation. Usually memoirs. an account of one's personal life and experiences; autobiography. the published record of the proceedings of a group or organization, as of a learned society.

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Lucky 13 is almost upon us! Next week we will explore a very important subject together, something vital to humanity and our life experience.

Week thirteen’s prompt is something uniquely personal. Something that has brought humanity immense comfort, and has also caused horrific wars and great suffering. Next week's prompt is concerning faith. I'd like you all to dig deep on this one because I think it's imperative to understanding yourself and also the world around you.

Memoir Monday has grown so much that I won’t be able to comment on everyone’s posts anymore (and get my own work done) but I’ll still be supporting your posts with reblogs, votes, and shares on my other social media accounts (X, Facebook, etc.).

For all of those who’ve regularly participated in Memoir Monday - keep going, you’re making great progress in chronicling your very own life story for future generations to enjoy.

For those who missed the inaugural post explaining what the Memoir Monday initiative is all about you can find it here.

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Now for next week’s Memoir Monday prompt:

How would you describe your faith journey?

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My answer:

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My faith journey has been, shall we say, a little unconventional and filled with many twists and turns. Faith for me is all about seeking -- solace, answers, balance, contentment, peace. The end goal is to find these things, and when that we do we've found our true path.

My mom is a devout Catholic but my brother or I wasn’t baptized or raised going to church. My father was deeply opposed to organized religion of any kind because he felt many religious people were hypocritical. As a child of the foster care system, he remembered how people would be nice to him in church but shun him outside of the church setting during the other six days of the week.

I'll never forget the sunny and cold winter afternoon when I was nine or ten. My Mom took my brother Curt and I to a Catholic mass at St. Thomas church in Columbus, Ohio to experience what it was all about. I can remember really connecting strongly with parts of the experience. I loved the smell of frankincense and the sense of goodwill/unity I felt amongst the parishioners during the service. On the other hand I didn’t understand much of what was going on since I wasn’t raised in the church. It seemed like so much standing, kneeling, and other rituals that I felt like I was always struggling to follow. I didn't connect so much with that part of it.

My Mom later explained she wanted to let us experience it for ourselves then decide if it was something we wanted to do regularly. That was our one and only Sunday service. In hindsight, I’m really grateful that religion wasn’t forced upon us and we had a chance to decide how we wanted to express our faith. I now understand how rare of a thing my Mom gave my brother and I when she allowed us the freedom to choose our faith. I'll always be grateful to her for that.

Fast forward to my late teens. I had recently graduated high school but didn’t have any real direction. I felt paralyzed by the pressure of figuring out what I wanted to do with my life. I had become overweight and severely depressed. I had no real plan for my future and was feeling intense worry about that. I kind of wanted to be a writer but didn't think I could ever support myself doing it.

My roller coaster ride of anxiety that was, at times, so crippling it was difficult for me to leave the house. I remember how frustrating and limiting this felt. I started rebelling against the depression in small ways, like forcing myself out of the house into situations that might trigger the panic attacks in an attempt to desensitize myself to them.

In hindsight, therapy would have been a Godsend to me at that time but in our circles therapy wasn’t something that was accepted or even considered. Those forced trips outside of my comfort zone started, very slowly, working. I began to venture further from the house and stay out longer. Soon I started driving to a part of town called German Village in Columbus because it felt peaceful, there were lots of little shops, and I could spend hours there amongst people.

I developed a routine. I would stop and get a cup of coffee at Cup o’ Joe, an old coffee shop that used to be on Third Street and then would walk down to the Book Loft and spend hours looking at books and reading. I'd usually be drawn to the self-help/spirituality section. During one of those visits to the Book Loft I found a little book entitled Metaphysical Meditations by Paramahansa Yogananda and books from the mystic, Edgar Cayce. I credit that little book by Yogananda with lighting a fire within me that's still burning to this day.

I started college at Columbus State and between school and meditation my life started coming together. Throughout the early 1990's I kept devouring books written by Yogananda and started meditating regularly. In the mid-1990s I began a three year course in advanced Kriya Yoga meditation techniques offered by The Self Realization Fellowship and graduated in 1998. The meditation practice relieved me of my crippling anxiety and depression and transformed my life in countless ways. I finally felt like I was on the right path to getting better. The only way I can describe it was like coming "home", like I found what I had been searching for.

This little card serves as a physical reminder to me of both the work I've put in for my faith and the rewards I've received because of it.

I think an overwhelming feeling of comfort and grounding is what many people experience when they first find their true faith, one that is in alignment with their core values and their soul. My faith has allowed me to survive so many struggles, periods of grief, challenges and heartache. My faith has also kept me grounded during times of great success when my ego might otherwise have ruined me.

During our faith journey I think we have to make sure people and institutions don't exploit our faith to gain power or control over us. This is a story as old as time. There are many unscrupulous individuals and institutions who lay in waiting to take advantage of us for financial gain and power. In the beginning of our faith journey, especially people can be particularly vulnerable.

Throughout the last few decades of my life, as I've matured, my faith has changed and evolved slightly. Faith is very personal and different for everyone. I believe faith itself is active, always in motion. Faith provides us with a framework for living in this world. To live a life of faith requires practice, constant work or else it becomes stale and we lose interest. After all, to remain static in any aspect of life means to fall behind.

Since we change as we age I think our faith must change as well, I think this is perfectly natural. My faith is, by far, the greatest gift I've received in my nearly fifty-three years of life, a wellspring of hope. I can't imagine living in this crazy and unpredictable world without it. In my opinion the source or catalyst of our personal faith isn’t quite as important as having faith in the first place.

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Rules of Engagement

1. Please reblog this first post and share on other social platforms so we cast the widest net possible for this initiative;
2. Pictures paint a thousand words. Include pictures in your posts if you have them;
3. Answer each Memoir Monday prompt question in your own post. If possible, the prompt question will be published in the week prior so you'll have the entire week to answer and publish your own post;
4. Have fun with it, don't worry about getting behind, or jumping into the project at any point after we've begun; and
5. Lastly, be sure to include the tag #memoirmonday.

It's that simple.

At the end of the next twelve months we'll have created something immensely valuable together. It's so important to know our "whys" in life and there's no better way to do that than this.

Someday all that will be left of our existence are memories of us, our deeds, and words. It's up to you to leave as rich of a heritage as possible for future generations to learn from. So, go ahead, tell your stories. I can't wait to read them.

Be well and make the most of this day. I want to sincerely thank all of the participants thus far. I've really enjoyed reading your posts!

~Eric Vance Walton~

(All photos are original.)

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