My journey - Part 1

I remember I must have been 17 years old when I realized there is no heaven and hell as described in the religious books. The heaven/hell was already here on the Earth and you and only you could switch from one to another very easily as the edge is thin.

Since I was a girly I used to speak to my grandma about the life after death, why we are here, what is the purpose of our life etc. My grandma although very surprised by my questions always participated in the discussions. She would say there is nothing there after death and the worms eat us and we get dust, but sometimes I would see the deep sorrow in her eyes as if she herself could not believe that this is all that is. I could not believe in that story either and from time to time would awake that topic again. At that time she claimed she was an atheist as she has lost her dad, brother and husband earlier than she has thought is the right time and no God would allow this so there is no God. But in getting older, she started to pray and even go to church and I believe this gave her strength as she lived alone in her older days and died peacefully.

I was raised as a catholic. My mum was the one who brought the faith and the religious note in my dad’s family that was still in that communist, 2. World War energy and only believed in the Party and president Tito. To claim to believe in God, to go to the church or celebrate Christmas was punished with death sentence or jail for 20 or more years and many people feared to talk about it and celebrated Christmas hidden behind veils and in big fear. The religious spirit had to be suppressed in any way. When my mum came in to their lives, the situation was not so bad as I described before and she with her young strong will, convinced my grandpa that she wants to get married in the church and wants for her future children to be baptized. I guess my grandpa loved my mum very much because he said that she can do it if she feels it and he will not stop her. It was a big thing for my grandpa as he did not speak for years with his sister, because she secretly baptized my dad. My grandpa never forgave her for this. He was a partisan and strongly believed in hard work and discipline.

So my parents married in a church. There is actually a funny anecdote about my dad and his confession just previous to the ceremony. As he never went to the catechism or anything similar, he was given the Bible to study. When the priest asked him who is the Savior of the world, he said John the Baptist. The priest asked why and my dad said because he baptized Jesus and this way saved the world. Even today we laugh about it and my dad can not understand why because this was so logical to him.

When I was born as a first child I was baptized as my sister too. When it was the time to go to the catechism, I went of course. I remember that I could not wait to go to the afternoon mass and would run from my duties not worrying what my granny or my parents will say. Jesus was more important. I would be so overwhelmed by the smell of the frankincense and the holly words coming from the mouth of our priest and would float on my way home. After a few years the communion followed and than the confirmation.

The day when I had my confirmation was the day when something changed in me. I went to the confession as you have to be pure and without sins before you step in front of Jesus. I remember the priest asking me among the other questions, if I had something with boys or was thinking about boys. I was than 15 years old and of course as every girl in the puberty I had my fantasies and a platonic love. But it was not the question that disturbed me, it was the look in the priest eyes. I saw someone who was very interested to hear about it and I could feel that lusty look in his eyes. I said NO and lied looking directly in to his eyes and said to myself I will never again go to any confession any more. I will find my way to speak to God and Jesus directly. I felt very guilty afterwards as I lied to the priest and prayed and prayed and asked God to forgive me. And I really never went to any confession after that in my life…

I still went to the mass but would always feel that priests look on myself as if he knew I have lied and with time my visits ceased. Shortly afterwards my family moved from the country to the city as I started with my high school and the priest was forgotten.

From that time I started to read everything that would come in to my hands: Hare Krishna books, Sai Babas books, Jehovah witness books, Astrology…everything that would give me any answer where we come from, why are we here and how to reach God’s love. I lived in my life of fantasy, imagining how I help people and my heart is open as the one of Jesus. I would pray to Jesus to help me, to lead me and guide and I could always hear that tiny, gentle voice in my head that would say: Everything is going to be all right. Do not worry.

Continues…