Author: Justin Almeida

Unitarian Universalist minister, hospital chaplain, public theologian, active activist, peaceful warrior.

What choice(s) do I have?

On By Justin AlmeidaIn Life98 Comments
Yes, it sometimes feels like this…

I am an American consumer. I have no little choice in the matter. There are extreme options for living off the grid, but I live in a big city (Seattle).  Therefore, I must do as the Seattlites do. I try to make intelligent, conscientious consumer choices: buying second hand, buying local, buying independent. However, these choices are difficult at best. Many supposedly healthy, organic, responsible brands are owned and operated by large multi-national corporations who have more compassion for the bottom line than for environmental or human health.

It’s like that scene in the Shining… but on everything…

This really frustrates me. Due to my choices (mostly, a car and electronics) I have at least 36 slaves working for me. I fully acknowledge the things I buy are tainted. It’s because I demand cheap goods that will satisfy me immediately. It’s because I don’t grow my own food or make my own clothing. It’s also because tainted goods are the only choices corporations and companies offer me. Or I could remove myself completely from the consumer loop and become a recluse.

Ideas anyone? Bueller… Bueller…?

The thought isn’t so bad, except I really like movies, cheeseburgers, beer, video games, refrigeration, modern medicine, owning a car, and the interwebs. Modern life in the United States can be awesome, amazing, and wonderful!

There has to be a better way.  Few things in life are this black and white. Change has to come from both sides–manufacturer and consumer. I must demand my goods be slave free and ethically sound. I have to accept that these goods will eventually cost more. Corporations must wake up and realize human beings have an inherent dignity and the Earth can’t be raped until there is nothing left. If I can have fair trade coffee and conflict free diamonds, why can’t I have blood free electronics and transparent labeling?

These are your only choices… forever…

Google and some other companies are on the right track. There are alternatives for those of us who can afford them. But I worry about are people who can’t afford (or access) these choices. Millions of people can ONLY shop at WalMart and eat at McDonalds. Economics dictate their food and goods. Trader Joes, Whole Foods, and the little hipster organic shop on the corner don’t exist in their neighborhoods and are too expensive for their budgets. In a country that prides itself on freedom and choice, millions of people have no alternative but depend on goods bound to human slavery and environmental atrocities.

Power to the people!

So what is an American consumer to do?  Start with consumer choices. Nothing will be 100% guilt free, but I have been buying better. Heather and I have scaled back how MUCH we buy in lieu of the QUALITY in what we buy. When we can, we frequent farmers markets. We walk to work. We don’t own a TV. We cook our own food. We buy clothes second hand. We make choices to go without, rather than participate in.

We also gear our investments in portfolios and organizations which work towards just environmental, economic, and employment practices. These investments may not have better returns, but the ethic is more important. Also, I speak up on corporate social media pages and participate in local and national government… I demand policies and laws that take the environment and human rights into account.

Trust this guy.

Gandhi’s words will forever be true: “Be the change you want to see in the world.” Change is difficult and comes at a sacrifice; it means discomfort, delay of reward, or just saying no. But I believe it’s worth all this and more to achieve as much of a slave free and environmentally sustainable world as we can get. It is happiness and health for the long run.

Ending a relationship…

On By Justin AlmeidaIn Life17 Comments
Not actually me.

I used to be a religious man. I was a Christian; a Catholic to be precise. I did my best to read the bible. I enjoyed the community of ritual. I even entered seminary for a brief time. I wasn’t perfect; far from it. But I tried, and repented, and tried again. When I was young, it was easy to believe. As I got older, I began to struggle with dualism and dogmatic concepts. My religious views said one thing. My rational mind said others.

Recently, a friend of mind told me that the Church was making it very hard to be a believer. In fact, he was considering Atheism. I told him that was a ballsy move. It was a similar statement of belief in an un-provable objective truth. He countered that the Church was making a good case for him leaning on the atheist end of agnosticism.

I found this to be a much better statement. And a true one.

Subtle, right?

For the last 5 years I have been struggling in much the same way. I would go to Christian services, but I could no longer say the words. I felt like a liar when asked to repeat the Apostles’ Creed or to sing the Gloria. It felt wrong to go through words and motions I no longer felt and no longer believed. Trust me, I tried to believe. I WANTED to believe.

It was sad.

It was like the end of a relationship where you hang on, not because you want to, but because you feel you have no choice. What would my family think? What about my friends? What about my church community? There was no more love. No more commitment. No more emotion. Just guilt and shame. And more guilt. And more shame.

yeah… it’s a hard sell…

But I had run into the same issue my friend had. The Church had made it too easy to lean on the atheist side of agnosticism. Not just because of the hypocrisy in the patriarchal leadership, sex abuse scandals, or outdated views on human sexuality. I had serious doubts regarding trinitarianism, the nature/concept of sin, transubstantiation/consubstantiation, and the existence of an afterlife. For those unchurched, these are foundational beliefs for any Christian. If you don’t believe in them, you are not part of the club. You are what people lovingly refer to as an apostate.

 

And then they damn you to hell.

Why won’t you just love me?!?!

I no longer believe in such things. But it still hurts. People who I love, because of their faith, are confident that I am going to burn in fire and torment for eternity. It doesn’t matter how much good I do in my lifetime, how much peace and love and reconciliation I bring to others, or how many good deeds I do. Because I am no longer a believer, I am going to hell.

This bothers me because these are the same people who say they love me. They BELIEVE I am so wrong and so flawed that I would deserve eternal damnation. Then they say, “But I don’t want you to go to hell. It’s just the truth. I’ll pray for you.”

That’s like a southern person saying, “Bless her heart.”

Trust me, that’s not what they’re really saying.

non religious does not mean non spiritual

So I do the only thing I can do. I forgive them. Just because I am no longer a religious man, does not mean I am no longer a spiritual man. My experience tells me I have emotional connections and responses not only to other human beings, but to my community and world. I find inspiration, beauty and joy in the mundane. I still encounter the peak experience. I have a need to explore what it means to be human. I recognize that there is an extra dimension to my existence, and I want to investigate what that is with a rational mind and an open heart.

I have found a church and community that encourages this. Unitarian Universalism.

These are their beliefs:

  • The inherent worth and dignity of every person;
  • Justice, equity and compassion in human relations;
  • Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations;
  • A free and responsible search for truth and meaning;
  • The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large;
  • The goal of world community with peace, liberty and justice for all;
  • Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.

Much like a new relationship, it’s all sparkles and rainbows. It’ll be hard getting over my ex. But it’s time to move on. I’ll let you all know how things work out for the long haul. But at least I’m moving forward.

How do you say goodbye?

On By Justin AlmeidaIn Life2 Comments

Recently, my wife’s grandfather passed away. He had advanced stage Alzheimer’s. I remember meeting him before we were married. There was barely a person there. He lived another 6 years. He outlived his wife while in the care center.

Tonight, my wife said, “I’m confused. I feel like I should be more broken up about my grandfather dying.” My response: “What you’re feeling is probably relief. You saw him at his worst, and are happy now that he isn’t suffering.”

She said her goodbyes years ago.

People react differently to death. My own grandmother passed away a few months ago. I wasn’t able to go to the funeral because airlines wanted $700 for a ticket. I’m still not sure how I feel about it; I definitely haven’t dealt with the reality fully. In the back of my mind, she is still living in Arizona. Until I realize that she’s not.

I still haven’t cried.

Which is strange. I cry over stupid crap. I lost water weight after every episode of Touch on FOX. Don’t get me started over the first 5 minutes of Pixar’s Up. Doesn’t my grandmother deserve tears?

It’s not that sadness isn’t there. It is. I can feel it inside; I could feel it when I spoke with her on the phone for the last time. I feel it every time I talk to my mom and my aunt. I felt it when Heather told me her grandfather died. Grief is there, but it won’t come out.

Part of me feels my grief is selfish. My grandmother was an amazing woman filled with love, faith, and charity. She was a good Irish Catholic grandmother. Why should I cry over such an amazing and good life? She lives on in my memory, and if Christianity has anything to say about the afterlife, I am pretty dang sure she is rejoicing in heaven with Jesus. If anything, I should live my life better in her memory.

Maybe this is why I haven’t cried. To me, she isn’t gone yet. In my heart and in my mind, she is still with me. My memories keep her alive well past when her body gave out. She still makes me want to be a better grandson, husband, future father and human being. None of those things make me sad.

Like my wife, maybe I am just relieved that she isn’t in pain anymore. Her death wasn’t tragic or untimely. She had a full and good life. That is nothing for me to cry over.

I miss you grandma. Even if the tears won’t come.

Seattle, stop complaining.

On By Justin AlmeidaIn Life2 Comments
the sun
the sun… bringer of life or malevolent god?

Today it hit 90 degrees in Seattle. The weather prognosticators say the next two days will be the hottest of the year. Tomorrow is supposed to be 95. For Seattle, these are apocalyptic temperatures. 90 degrees is something nobody in Seattle thinks about until it happens. Then all local hardware stores sell out of their fans, portable air conditioners, and ice makers.

I can only laugh.

I grew up in the 125 degree Las Vegas heat; today was a nice spring day. Yes, I grew up with air conditioning. That’s beside the point. My ability to take heat is a matter of regional pride. I remember driving auto parts around the city one summer with no air conditioning in my car. Sweat would evaporate before it could run down my face. Remember, it’s a DRY heat.

cookies
no joke. we do this in the summer where i come from.

It’s a real consideration. Humidity in Puget Sound hovers between 40%-70%. 90 degrees feels a little more… insane oppressive. Nowhere near the hellish breathable air of a southern summer, with 100 degree temps and 100% humidity. I have felt such things. I will pass down these memories to my grandchildren, scaring them into good behavior. I will tell them if they don’t behave, they will be taken to the mythical land of Mississippi, where people go in the summer to be punished for their sins.

It’s not far from the truth. Right?

Anyways, I found myself sweating in my office today. No A/C, no fans. Just me, computers, a server, an open window, and no air movement. I got up for a moment and found that my clothing had bonded into a single garment held together by bodily fluids. Ew. I find our ability to sweat to be a design flaw. It is supposed to cool us down. It fails. (much like histamines–they’re supposed to protect our body from foreign toxins; all they do is make me miserable and drug companies richer.)

I digress. It’s uncomfortably warm. All of Seattle is complaining about it. I refuse. I’ve paid my dues at the altar of the sun god. I’ve survived heat that could kill a person. (truth–I almost had a Couch Surfer die because she didn’t follow my suggestions for dealing with a Vegas summer) Seattle, you need to get over your 2 days of 90 degree temps. If the rest of the U.S. hears you, you’re gonna get jumped in the parking lot. True story.

Fear is the mind killer

On By Justin AlmeidaIn Life3 Comments

“There is absolutely no value to my life if I begin to lose my mind.”

These were challenging words I heard in a sermon two weeks ago. The topic: the loss of reverence in modern society. Lately I have been attending a Unitarian Universalist congregation near my home. Every topic has been inspiring. This one went above and beyond.

I should frame those words in context. The minister was speaking about how we have lost a sense of reverence in modern life. We expect science to solve all mysteries. We prize our mind and intellect over emotion and creativity. We have no more spaces that allow peak experience: a feeling of connection with something greater than ourselves. Our homes, work, churches and nature have been reduced to the quantifiable. Life has become utility; if it is no longer useful, it needs to be replaced.

This is a matter of perspective. In my own life I have small moments of rapture. I notice a particular flower one day, a mushroom the next, a bird or piece of nature or a shooting star. My mind will lose itself in the wonder of these things. How I can be at a particular place and time and experience them. I experience a spiritual connection in the beauty and complexity of the universe. To sound droll; I find the divine in everything.

Sometimes I look at my wife and experience a sense of awe. How amazing to be the one person out of billions to connect with her in such a way, that she would dedicate herself to me for the rest of our lives. How lucky. How unbelievable! I have no problem finding a reverence for humanity; my community, friends and family.

Yet, those words above haunt me. I realized I have no reverence for my own self. I only find worth in my mind. It terrifies me that a random accident could result in brain damage. I am not the brightest bulb in the box, but I can critically think and rationalize to a good extent. But if I suddenly were to suffer severe brain damage, I would want my friends and family to put me down like a lame horse. I do not want to live my life that way; my self and worth resides in my ability to critically think and rationalize.

I am horrified by this realization. I thought I believed all people have unique value, regardless of status. Even the most mentally challenged individual deserves to be treated like a human being; with respect and dignity. I really do have a reverence for humanity, though I may fail in expressing it at times. So where is my compassion when it comes to my own worth? Why do I place such a high position to my own mind and intellect?

It all comes down to fear. I am afraid of suddenly being less. I am afraid of having to depend on others completely.  I am afraid of being a burden. I am afraid of being weak. I am afraid of a million things, all of which keep me from finding my own intrinsic reverence.

I suppose now that I realize how much holds me back as an individual, I can face my demons. This is easier said than done in a world that inspires fear: I am not fit enough, good looking, intelligent, accomplished, wealthy, engaged… I am surrounded by induced fear and must conquer it every day.

I don’t want my own sense of worth to be solely dependent on a small lump of matter between my ears. I want to be free from my own dehumanization. My goal is to recognize my own intrinsic value for ALL that I am; imperfections and all. I want to hold myself as high as I hold the rest of humanity.

The heart is in the groove…

On By Justin AlmeidaIn Life2 Comments
Rock like an Egyptian

Human beings love music. We seem genetically programmed to hear it, make it, and experience it. This probably has to do with our brain’s ability to find patterns in random experiences and extrapolate those patterns into more complex experiences. A million years ago an emerging humanity heard things in nature, liked what it heard, and immediately tried to make it better. Music defines culture, identity, and ritual; it is a part of the human condition.

It is no surprise that I enjoy music. Maybe not as much as some of my audiophile friends. I am not really interested in celebrity or artist bios. The hipster fascination with having heard an unknown (or known) band first makes me want to stop drinking PBR. I have a hard time placing an artist voice to a particular band. I do not spend hours scouring the internet for the latest and most obscure. I accept that this may make me uncultured or at least out of touch. I define my love of music as being an extension of my emotions.

I would do anything for love… really…

Most Plenty of my friends cringe at my musical leanings. I have an undying love for rock opera; specifically the Who, Styx, and Meatloaf. I treasure acts like Journey, Kansas and Bon Jovi. Occasionally I indulge myself with Roxette followed by a U2 chaser. I am unashamed of this. Their music gives me joy, especially when heard randomly at a bar or on the radio. (usually accompanied by air guitar)

However, I believe my musical taste has redeeming qualities. I find Tom Waits and Leonard Cohen fascinating. Part of my heart is set aside for the greats like Frank Sinatra, Elvis, Johnny Cash and the Beatles. I don’t know much about blues but I enjoy it every time I hear it. A few weeks ago I attended a bluegrass festival in Puget Sound and I have sat in rapture for experimental jazz infused Jewish traditionals in Budapest. World music brings a smile to my lips, whether it is from Africa or the Middle East. I am calmed by classical and inspired by neo contemporary.

One common trend carries through all of this–I am emotionally attached to the music I listen to. The right song at the right time will have me crying shedding man water. When exercising, a particular set can literally make me faster and stronger. Music will calm me down when I am angry or stoke the flames to an inferno. This explains why I don’t care about the who’s or what’s of music; emotionally I only care about the how’s and why’s.

Rock on!

In a world where I have to be cold, hard and calculating, music is my catharsis. This is why I have no shame jumping around to the Safety Dance or sitting in a corner and weeping to Tori Amos. Music rounds me out as a person and allows me a dimension I otherwise would never express. To everybody everywhere, remember: “Be excellent to each other.”