Before I start out on a trip I pack a bag. Unconsciously I spent 42 years accumulating stuff for this trip. It was a mental/emotional backpack overstuffed with desires and fears.
Growing up there was little or no religious emphasis. The chauffeur would take my brother , me and the nanny every Sunday to the Grace Episcopal Church. Very high Episcopal church. We stopped when I insisted that we would no longer go if our parents didn't attend. As a child I wrote compositions about past lives. One was about being a tick in a previous life. I worried all through high school about god and time and scale. Was god change, the only constant? What if our known universe was the same scale as human to ant to some hugely perceptive being. Atoms::universe::? Was this what people were talking about when they mentioned god? Then there were the brief flings with churches. Looking. It was all about men in the churches and the mosques and synagogs. They weren't speaking my language.
I left off looking and tried to fit into society. Had debutant parties, gave up nature for a wedding gown, practiced housewifely duties, had four miscarriages, fell in love with a woman on a road trip to South America, and left any attempts at fitting into society. It took 20 years more before I resumed the search.
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