No, not on the way to the forum, but at my girls’ TaeKwonDo testing. The Grandmaster at my girls’ school is one of those people who simply exude calm and power. There is a kindness about him that would not be out of place in a monastery. His English is a bit broken, but he is worth listening to.

His school is a place where not only marital arts skills are taught, but children (and teenagers) are taught to honor their elders and most of all honor the potential within themselves. I really love what I see both Princess Nibbles and Miss Artistic getting out of it.

Mr Grumpy joined us at this belt testing. When we walked in Grandmaster greeted my husband and myself and then my father. To my father Grandmaster started speaking on the benefits of meditation for peace of mind, for health, and for inspiration. He spoke of how he wakes in the morning at 4am to meditate before doing his day’s training (5 hours worth!). The man will probably outlive Gamer Dude and I both.

Now, granted, none of you know my father – although his moniker of Mr Grumpy I’m sure gives you a hint to his usual demeanor. I took great pleasure in my father’s little lecture. Granted I listened to it myself and resolved to make time in my life for meditation. In fact, as both girls have been charged with adding meditation to their daily life, Gamer Dude and I have decided that this will be a family project – something the four of us do together.

Anyway, back to my point. I took a little bit of evil delight in my father who shuns all things spiritual, who calls me an atheist because he does not care to even try to understand how I could have a faith “so far outside” the Roman Catholicism he claims but does not practice, being advised to meditate.

I have to admit its a little painful to not be accepted by my family. When I first became Wiccan my parents thought the incense was to cover up pot smoking (it wasn’t), when the “phase” didn’t pass my father would allude to my being a Satanist, as time wore on he would refer to my “thinking” I was a Witch, as if it were a delusion. Now, he just thinks I’m an atheist – I guess that’s an improvement.

It is this lack of acceptance that drove me back into the closet. And yes, at almost 40, I should be able to accept that what my father thinks of me doesn’t have to matter anymore. I’m working on that one, trust me.

In the meantime, the next time my dad makes a snarky comment about my “lack of religion”, I’ll simply imagine him sitting crosslegged in front of a candle counting breaths, or chanting Ohm, and I’ll chuckle to myself at the unlikelihood of the event.

Blessings

Mama Kelly

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