It’s Not About the Destination but the Journey There

 

Today was the first time I “celebrated” Dia Los Muertos. Being that I am part Mexican, that particular tradition has always held my interest. Maybe I was drawn to it like the bright colors on a casino slot machine at first. But even then, Ive always been VERY interested in the whole aspect of death and spirits. Whether it is going to a few haunted places or when I’m constantly reading about haunting or even watching th shows about mediums talking with those who have past. I have always been interested in the unknown after death. I put celebrated in quotes because yes it is a holiday to remember the good times with the departed and welcoming them back to earth for a few days. But it’s still sorrowsome because they have gone away from us all.

I remember I was in a car with my boyfriend at the time and I had brought up a sensitive subject. I had said that I wasn’t sure if I believed there was a God. I’m sure there was a Jesus at one point, but I’ve always been more scientific and evidence based than anything. He was visibly upset and yelled. That was the last I brought it up. I guess I question it because my mother had told me once that she was raised Mormon and from the time she learned it as a little girl to when she became an adult, the book had changed. Not saying things can’t change but if it’s a belief I guess it shouldn’t?

But as I sit here and say to myself that maybe I don’t believe in God, then why do I strongly believe in spirits? Do I think spirits reside on here on Earth and not carry on? Yes. Doesn’t make sense. How can I sit here and say I am evidenced based believe but believe in spirits? I don’t know if I have an answer into why but with little knowledge I have, I chose not to provoke them in any way. Never would I mess with a ouija board or even say Bloody Mary three times as a kid. I don’t and would never taunt.

But another thing baffles me. If I don’t believe in God, then why was I in the bathroom, that day in the hospital,  praying to God? When it comes to fear, which I can only remember maybe twice in my life, why am I praying to God?  I wouldn’t say that I am lost. Im just not sure what I believe I guess. I know there are spirits. But is there one spirit greater than the other? I’ll never know.

Growing up my parents didn’t force church upon us like their parent did with them. We would go to church summer camp or little get togethers here and there on base. I would Sunday school with my friends on Sundays cause really we had nothing else to do. My parents wanted us to become as exposed as we can to whatever there is to offer to anything. I’ve gone to Pentecostal churches, Christian, Baptist  and of course Catholic Churches. All I have to say ignorantly is that they are all relitivly the same just different turns. Now don’t get my wrong, some turns are VERY different. But more or less the same. But if I had to chose I would go about with the Catholic Church. It feels the best to me and just feels right.

I’m at the point in my life that I am not scared when it comes to scary movies. Yes I get jumpy but nothing scares me enough to sleep with the light on. However I do excited when I watch anything paranormal or based on real life situations. That scares me. So maybe that is why I still believe in spirits. The fear makes me believe. I’ve never had an experience to talk about but I’ve had enough “signs” to say to myself that that’s too much to be a coincidence. But then I go back and say, yes it is. It is a coincidence. It’s just out of the normal and I’m making it a big deal. I’m constantly talking myself out of things. Constantly.

Going back to celebrating today, I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into. I did as much reading as I could about going about these past two days and still wasn’t sure if I was doing it correctly. As far as I know my Mexican side of the family doesn’t celebrate it so there were no answers there. So when it came down to it, I made a very simple Ofrenda. Who know if I did it right.

But for me, it was enough. However, I still carried on with my day as I normally would. I still went to work. I visited friend. I went shopping. At the end of it all I’m continue my life, as I have been for the past year an a half, moving on. It’s simple minded to me.


With that all said, this day is about celebrating the dead. Not mourning. It’s something that I will probably do every year to myself. I have always been very personal about this whole ordeal and I plan to carry on with this as well. I will probably talk more and with greater detail about how I’ve come to this place in my life one day soon. I just came here to finally post after a long while that I am celebrating this day for the first time and in the only way I know how. With respect.