Considering the history of religion in humanity, one could assume that spirituality is engrained in our psyches.  That it is a part of our genes.  I personally am critical of most organized religions, however, mostly because there are elements of power, control, and sexism.  I cannot fathom a hierarchy of worth in a religious pursuit, nor the idea that some men (and men alone) have more access to godliness. I believe in a universal truth and that every being who seeks G*D with purity and commitment will eventually find what they are looking for.  I can’t even assume it is the same for everyone, but that isn’t really relevant.

That is why I don’t understand all the imposed segregation and factions.  We as humans may have different paths to understanding the divine, but why can’t we travel down parallel lines in peace?

Raising a child makes you wonder if their young souls sense the deeper meaning of religion?  Beyond what tears us apart, but what brings us together.

This weekend The Munch and I went to sit with some Tibetan Monks who were working on a sand mandala for peace.  They had two instruments of metal they scraped together to create an extremely intricate design, grain by grain.  The effort seemed not only arduous but also painstakingly tedious, yet the Monks seemed to be content with the process.  Creating a work of art so detailed and beautiful, that would eventually blow away: an ethereal beauty just like life.

When we entered the room The Munch was remarkably respectful.  She seemed to intuitively understand something profound.  She sat on my lap for an hour watching the Monks create, as I envied their quite minds. Can I just say nothing will make you question the insanity of your inner voice more than a peaceful looking monk placing a grain of sand 1mm to the left…