That Whole 'Faith' Thing...

Religion has always been a more difficult subject for me to discuss than sex. That shouldn't be a shocker.

I was raised in a non-practicing Catholic household, and taught when I was younger that I had the unique choice of deciding whether it was for me or not.

My father once told me the story of how he had joined a Seminary, planning on becoming a man of religion. But he failed the "Bible" course. Yes, that's right, he failed the "Bible" course. He said the instructor told him he questioned too much.

My mother's side of the family was very much like my own in that they were lenient and open about a person making his or her own choices. My father's side of the family, however, was fairly staunch Catholics who attended every Sunday. If you did not go to church and worship Him, then you were going to Hell.

I can remember in my early teens being forced to go to church with my Grandmother from my father's side. I remember hating every moment. They stood up, they sang. They sat down, they sang. They stood up, they prayed. They sat down, they prayed. It was like a scripted little mass-acting school, and I'd not even been given the first draft. It was one of the only times I can actually remember being fully horrified and feeling terrible about my lack of knowledge in that area.

Still, I considered myself Catholic for quite a while, until I was in my very early twenties. It was The Thing To Do. One of the only reasons I stayed that way was for acceptance by my friends. I saw a lot of hypocritical Christians; sinners in my eyes who did bad things all week and went to church on Sunday to be absolved of all of them. It bothered me more than I ever let on, and I absolutely hated it.

When I was married, my mother-in-law introduced me to a book on Wicca. She was dabbling and dipping into it herself. The whole concept behind the religion intrigued me so much that I went to the local library and read nearly all the books they had on the subject. When I was done with all of those books, I went out and bought some more for myself.

Of course, that made my -very- Baptist and controlling then-husband extremely angry with me. Just before we separated, he nearly dragged me to church to get saved. I left him before that could happen, though.

Wicca has been in my life since that time -- nearly four years. I am still learning about it, trying to figure out my feelings. I like the way it feels right in my gut, though, and I like the way it eases my mind at times. I've always believed Nature has had a lot more to do with the flow of things than most people. I've always thought that there is a little bit of magic in everyday things and inside of people.

I imagine if you're still with me, you're considering me some sort of flake. That's okay. ;)

Which brings me, finally (and probably thankfully), to the thought of religion directly relating to M/s.

I see Wicca as an extremely personal religion, and the connection between all living things as strong. What better way to share such a connection than the trust and devotion required in giving your will to someone else?

Sex is more of a celebrated and magical thing to me than anything else. The energies shared between two people during even the act is amazing. When Sir was flogging me, the exchange then was doubly strong ... extremely powerful and it left me in total awe. I didn't link the two as much then as I do now, but it was still something amazing and lovely.

My views on all religions are still shaky. Especially after Sir died. I can appreciate and admire those who have a solid ground of faith to stand on, though. And I can see where someone's faith can take a deep root in the connection between Master and sub.

There. I'm never writing another babbling, scary post on religion again.

And, as a side note, I hesitated in posting this at all. But I decided to in the end. I'm not sure if that's a good thing for the readers of this blog, or a bad thing. :)