Yes, “Family isn’t always blood” and if I may add, blood relations don’t always make family. I so resonate with this story. Often, and sadly, it is only the “duty and obligation of being a family” that makes people stay together or keep connected. I’m glad I have learned to no longer be constricted by such a limiting belief. I often get incredulous looks and responses when people learn this about me, especially my “family” who perhaps, may not truly and fully get where I’m coming from. But I owe no one any explanation.
At age 13, during my freshman year in high school, I too read & fell in love with Jonathan Livingston Seagull, together with The Little Prince, Hope for the Flowers, The Fountainhead, and Rod McKuen’s work! I also couldn’t put down Edgar Cayce’s book on “Karma”.
I was born and raised Catholic and studied in an exclusive girls’ school run by Catholic nuns yet I already knew, but not how, that Mary Magdalene and Jesus were a couple. I also knew that there was a huge disconnect between who Mary Magdalene truly is vis-a-vis the image and story that the Church painted of her. I didn’t have anyone to share that piece of information with but managed to be content with just knowing.
Thank you so much Gina for this truly inspiring post and for reminding those of us who are in the same boat that we’re not alone, and we have soul brothers and sisters. Much blessings to you and your work!
My thoughts today are about how I can feel so close to those across the world yet still feel so separated from those who share my bloodline.
I laughed when Wayne Dyer shared, “Your friends are God’s way of apologizing for your family.” I was not from a close, jovial, generous family. I recall admiring a good friend from elementary school and wishing that I too could enjoy being a part of an extended Hindu family. I knew they got together every weekend (if not more) and ate together, laughed together, and played games together.
I was raised Christian in a liberal ‘United’ family. I memorized the Lord’s Prayer at a very young age and remember hiding my bedtime prayers after my mother caught me reciting them on my knees beside my bed with “What are you doing?! We’re not Catholic!” So I hopped under the covers and continued my…
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