Meaning

Yesterday while attending mass with my folks at Magallanes Church I saw some ants. They were dragging around a piece of something, I don't know what, but they were dragging it around with all their might and all their effort.

From one place to another, trying to cross tiles that had gaps. They dragged it in one direction, saw it was impassable, then dragged it to another destination. I watched with curiosity the whole 45 or so minutes the mass was going on. I thought they were trying to drag it somewhere near my mom's foot. It was around the consecration of the host when they made it there, so my curiosity sort of waned.

Later during communion I was shocked to see that the ants had dragged that thing back to where they started. What the hell? Really confused me, they did. I wanted to step on that thing they were dragging just to put an end to their misery, but I never really wanted to do that anyway. They're just doing what their instincts dictate. And what may seem strange to some are perfectly logical to others.

What's my point in all this?

I still don't like hearing mass and I find every possible reason to be distracted from what's going on in church.

I used to think this was a cycle, there would be a time when I'd be really devout, hearing mass and having communion, then something would happen and I'd stop listening, and praying and all that Christian jazz. Then something would happen, I'd hear confession and the cycle would repeat. It's sort of bad but at least before I knew that I'd end up praying again.

Now? It's been almost 2 years since I last heard confession and my "faith" and "devoutness" is at an all time low (maybe even down to zero?). I'm not worried, and I'm not sad. I just don't believe. I still go to mass, as it is an obligation. But do I still believe? I guess. Part of me does, probably because of the 19 years of studying in Catholic schools. All their "brainwashing" made me a believer.

Maybe I just don't want to pray because of the things that have happened the past year or so. I lost five or six relatives, mostly due to sickness. All due to sickness, come to think of it. Some still relatively young, some old. All hurt, even if some of them were not that close to me. To have that many relatives pass away in a span of a year (Nov. 2005 was the start) plus one of my dogs passed away last October due to complications in surgery, just makes the chip on my shoulder bigger.

I can't blame God. I just don't want to believe anymore. That doesn't mean I'm going bad. You can still be a nice person who follows rules even if you don't have a religion. However some people can argue this will make me spiritually empty. Oh well. I don't feel empty. I feel the same way I felt when I was devout.

In a way I'm similar to those ants I saw, with respect to religion. Going in one direction then back to where they came from, always moving, never stopping.

If you think a change of religion is what I need, you're sadly mistaken. I just need a reason to believe again. But since I'm not looking that reason will just probably hit me in the face, so to speak.

Ah whatever.

Out.