In which our Lady creates her own Religion.
I have two big thoughts to write about, both from a documentary Jon and I watched tonight on Tibetan caves recently ‘found’ in a region named Mustang (moos-tung). The caves are set in high cliffs, and form a complex and impressive system of interconnecting rooms and levels. Some are graveyards, others are living spaces, and still more are religious. One set of caves was a convenient storage space for thousands of sacred texts on the Bon, a religion predating Buddhism. The texts are highly respected by the locals, not only because of the beauty and history, but because of the idea they represent. It was incredibly cool to learn about all of this, but my big Ahah! moment came when the film revealed that Tibetans don’t actually have a word for religion. Instead, the word they use is the equivalent of the word scripture. Isn’t that intriguing? And true too. What is religion without its written precepts?
Not to put too much weight on my mostly frivolous writing, but what does that say about journal-writing in general, and specifically my blog? (No, I do not plan on forming my own religion. Besides, what would I call it? ... hmm ... How about Tumorism—with a sound doctrine consisting of brain reincarnation? ... The scriptural writings will contain spiritual guidance for the cancerous and non-cancerous alike, with a health code, a guide toward general healing, both physical and spiritual. It will espouse creativity and positive attitude, combining mind with body in ways metaphysical. Also, the scripture will lay out the paths toward future uncharted lands, sacred Nirvana-like valleys of shelter for those who have faced the gaping chasm of death. It will flourish in blogopheres everywhere...) Ahem. Aside from such interesting segues, when typing the gritty or especially hum-drum details of life, it can be difficult to remember what a collection of well-turned words can aspire toward, can’t it? I will say that for me writing is becoming an increasingly important part of my life. Apparently, brain surgery has literally jogged something loose upstairs. Thus am I enabled to find my own heavenly paths toward happiness and healing, whether it helps anyone else or not.
I’d also like to point out that the documentary also uses Shangri-La in its title. In the actual film, it was used once, in a tidy little sentence at the end. Talk about false advertising.