I have been incommunicado for a few days because I couldn't get on the site! I finally figured it out (thanks, Danielle!) and have somehow lost track of how many days are left till the first of January 2010 (2010!? Man!)

Here's what I was writing while I was 'away':

It has been a decade since I set my foot on the path that led me out of the faith of my childhood.

That is not to say I did not ‘experiment’ with my psychic side. I did. However, it was something my mother encouraged in odd ways—and bless her soul, she is just chemically imbalanced enough to make me think most of what even I personally experienced was just a lot of bunk.

Well, maybe not bunk, per se. In fact, honestly, there came a time I thought it was just plain evil, pure and simple.

Yeah, I know. Silly me. But you would have to understand the way things were. And right now, that is not my intent. Right now I want to share about a book I just started reading. Actually, I am barely 10 pages in, but it has already intrigued me, piqued my interest and given me hope I won’t forever despise the years I walked away from accepting my abilities without giving them ‘acceptable’ names—that it will explain a lot of what niggled in the back of my brain but I managed to ignore and overwrite with reverse logic.

Ah well.

I heard about this book while reading something else. I couldn’t tell you what it was I was reading. I read a LOT! But I am already grateful I wrote this title down.

Near the beginning of what some of my old friends would call my downfall, my fall from grace, I was reading a lot of angry men’s diatribes on the religion I grew up believing in. Rightfully so, their indignation flared, but the anger seeped, crept, bled—no, really more like Poured—into their writing. In some cases it actually tainted their ‘findings’ and made me, though a little angry with them, also disturbed that no one I could find at the time could write about this deception without getting all emotional about it, and hence, their writing was scarred and disjointed and made it difficult to decipher, discern, and separate the fact from their perhaps overactive imaginations.

But today. Ah, today, I began reading a book that does not start from some precept I never believed in anyway (I failed to mention the books that made good arguments, one in particular written by a Jew who became a Catholic priest or vice versa who spoke from Catholic tenets and made, then, logical assumptions from that point, and though the points seemed valid enough to at least make me think outside my own ‘religious thinking box’, I struggled with his first point being something I never believed anyway. Did that invalidate his whole argument?).

This book, today’s offering, is written by an Anglican priest who was brave—or wise—enough to search and learn and so far—and admittedly, 10 pages isn’t really a good litmus test maybe—but so far this man has been calm and sane and clear in his thinking and made claims he intends to back up with his own research, and I find myself intrigued beyond hope in a fascinated way. It is written coherently and in a conversational style that invites the reader in. I am looking forward to hearing what he has to say.

Suffice it to say, what this book is about is the Egyptian core of Christianity’s beginnings. My first Jewish teacher used to call his ‘faith’, his religion, a myth. Jewish mythology, he called it. That startled me. But in this book, the author, Tom Harpur, says that is all Christianity is: a replication (though without the understanding of it being allegoric) of Egyptian theology. He says there is not one thing in the Bible that did not first originate in some Egyptian tale.

So this should be interesting! I’ll keep you posted.


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