The Beauty in Belief

We grew up with the idea that there are three things that should not be discussed. Politics, religion, and money. And while I can agree to that to a certain extent, I think we have been trained to not talk about those things because they can become quite uncomfortable to talk about. With that being said, typically the most uncomfortable topics are the ones that need to be discussed the most. So, on today’s episode of “What the fuck is on Brookana’s mind today?” I would like to introduce you to the world of religion. 

My dad was never a religious person. He doesn’t believe in God, or any deity for that matter, and that is totally fine. My mom identifies as a Christian, and she tried to get my brother and I involved in the church at a young age. I briefly mentioned in another piece that I was confirmed as a methodist, but I never have believed in God. I don’t believe in the Devil, resulting in me not believing in Hell. Truthfully, I think I mostly went through with confirmation because I wanted to hang out with the other kids, and I thought it was fun. I was actually so against the idea of God and Heaven and Hell that I actually used to mock the people who believed in it. I wanted to rebel against it for some unknown reason, and I never shied away from making my opinion known.

I used to have very little respect for Christianity. I honestly thought that it was a religion where people could pretend to be amazing individuals in the church so that they could feel better about being horrible in the real world. I thought that Christianity was nothing more than a hypocritical, thieving, and conniving institution where people could get away with everything because “Jesus died for our sins.” Now, I still think that there are some people who lean more towards the questionable side within Christianity, however, you can say that about every single religion. There are always going to be a few bad seeds no matter where you go. 

There were points in time where I felt the need to believe in something. I had always been open to there being something beyond this life. I would research different religions and think to myself “yes, that is absolutely correct!” or “wow, that makes a lot of sense.” There were times where I thought “maybe I should just be a Christian.” I would find myself praying to God, trying to connect, but there was never anything. I never felt a connection. My heart was never in it. I never believed in God, and yet I was trying to because I knew I believed in something but I didn’t know what it was. 

You see, I had always had a special relationship with the universe. I have always walked outside barefoot on the grass so that I could feel the Earth’s vibrations shooting up into me. I used to feel an incredible amount of peace by lying on the grass (despite my extreme allergies) or by touching a tree or holding a flower. Animals have always been attracted to me and I have always been attracted to them. I feel the most wholesome when I am outside and I can hear the wind blowing past me or the birds chirping. 

I have always felt that I could see and feel souls from beyond. I used to have premonitions when I was younger. The dream that I remember the most was my brother and I playing in our playroom in the basement of our home, having a conversation at the same time. I played with specific toys, I said specific things, and then a few days later, it all happened exactly how I dreamt it. I remember in high school I once told a classmate of mine that I could see and feel spirits. He laughed at me and told the whole class. It didn’t bother me though, because people don’t necessarily know how to handle something that seems too out of the ordinary. Some people aren’t capable of accepting the things that are right in front of them. Another thing that I have known about myself is that I am EXTREMELY sensitive to energy. I can tell you if someone has more good or bad intentions. I know when someone is lying to me. I know when someone isn’t feeling well. I can feel what others feel. I can easily figure out who a person is within moments of being within their presence. I used to think that I hated people, but as I have gotten older and have learned about my gifts I have learned that I do not hate people, I just hate the energy that radiates off of them. I am trying to learn how to not allow others’ negative energy to penetrate me, but it takes time and skill, both of which I need more of. (By the way, if you were curious about what gifts I have I am a Clairsentient Empath with a dash of telepathy.)  

Anyway, I have written an article about my religion and my beliefs, but in case you didn’t read it I am a Wiccan and I practice witchcraft. I have never been more at peace in my life, and I have never felt so sure about myself or my path. This is what I am supposed to be doing, and just like I have said before all the beliefs that I have ever had finally have a home. Another beautiful thing is that I don’t believe in God, but I have found my deities. My deities have been so helpful to me and my path, and I truly have a deep connection with them. I work with Brigid and Hades, and thinking of them brings pure bliss into my soul. 

This leads me to why I am writing this. I have noticed that a lot of people think that what I am doing is nonsense. A lot of times, people voice concerns over me reading Tarot, talking about spirits, or even doing rituals. I like to talk a lot about Wicca and witchcraft and make videos explaining it because I think there is nothing to hide. In fact, if I could, I would teach everyone about my beliefs. This is only because I know that I find all belief systems so intriguing, and I thought that maybe others would like to learn as well. I refuse to ever be the type of person who gatekeeps my beliefs or the type of person that pushes my beliefs on to others. 

Many moons ago, my mom said something to me that has stuck. It has been something that I have often reflected upon, but haven’t fully appreciated until the past few years. When I was a teenager and in my “rebellious” years, she once sat me down and told me that it doesn’t matter what others believe in as long as it brings them peace. She said that, as a Christian, believing in God and in Heaven is comforting to her, and it isn’t anyone’s place to judge what brings people happiness. And you know what, she is absolutely correct. Now that I have found my spirituality and my “home” I understand what it feels like to be attacked for your beliefs. In my eyes, as long as you are not harming anyone or anything then I would want you to find peace with your beliefs or even a lack of them. Even if you don’t believe in anything at all that is fine! 

It boils down to this, no one, no matter what religion or belief system you belong to, can say with one-hundred percent certainty that their belief system is factual. There are thousands of religions out in this world, and any one of them could be what actually happens, or none at all. There is even a possibility that once we die that’s it. It could just be blackness and nothing. We don’t know. But that is the beauty of belief. There is something so special in the feeling of believing and resonating with something so much that your soul feels at peace when you think about it. There is nothing that feels better than strengthening your spirituality, and for me, working on my gifts. 

I am a human being, and I have had to learn a lot about respect and appreciation over the years. When it comes to others and their beliefs, especially with Christianity, I have had to learn to allow others to believe what they want to believe if it makes them happy and if it helps their soul. I don’t think that there is a single person on this planet that should judge someone else’s belief system, or tell them that it is not real. Those people are the people who are somewhat empty on the inside because anyone capable of tarnishing something so precious to another person has some life lessons to learn. 

So, with that being said, no matter what belief system you believe in never allow someone to make you feel bad about that. Take pity upon them, because they are lacking while you are thriving. There is a little bit of magic within us all, and that magic stems from the soul.

Tattoos and Depression

I wouldn’t say that I have an addictive personality. I hardly ever drink, I don’t smoke, I take edibles, but not often, I don’t do hardcore drugs, I have sex, but just with my husband, and I guess you could say it is a “typical” amount of copulation for a couple who has been together for ten years, and I usually don’t overeat. I am not used to having that feeling of needing something so badly that it is all that you can think about, that is, until now.

I got my first tattoo when I was eighteen years old, and I regretted it immediately. It was a larger piece on the inner part of my left forearm, and when you are used to seeing a blank canvas to suddenly having something there that is permanent it can be a bit of a shock. I just remember waking up the next day in tears thinking “what have I done?” I promised myself that I would never get another tattoo for the remainder of my life, and I was going to try to save up enough money to get the one tattoo that I had removed. Then, six months later, I found myself in a tattoo shop getting another one.

Tattoo9

I love tattoos. I love piercings. I love the adrenaline rush that I get when I pull up to my favorite shop and see my favorite artists. I love the smell of the ink and the buzz of the tattoo gun. I love sitting in the chair and wondering what my next piece is going to be while I am getting something done. The music, the laughter, the swearing, the connections that you make with the person who is working on you, it all just makes my serotonin levels rise. I feel like I am in my own personal euphoria, and I soak up every moment of it. I don’t crave a lot of attention from others, but getting work done is such an intimate experience. You’re putting your trust into someone to alter the shell that holds you in it. They are changing not only your appearance but in a way, also your life. To me, that is beautiful.

Altogether, I have nine tattoos. I have gotten four tattoos in less than ten months, which is a lot for me. Two of those tattoos were done in the last twenty-four hours. I used to average one tattoo every year and a half to two years, so this is an interesting change of pace for me. I have been doing some thinking, and I think I have figured out why this flux of ink has been taking place. 

Although I am always thinking about tattoos, I tend to want them, even more, when I am either approaching or in a low. Interestingly enough, just a few days ago I had a therapy appointment with my therapist where we were talking about some newer feelings that were arising, and she expressed that she was worried that I was taking a step backward. I do feel like I am starting to revert to what my norm has been for all of these years, but I am desperately trying to nip it in the bud before it takes me down too much. Anyways, I think I have a correlation between my depression and my tattoos. You see, as stated in previous articles, my coping mechanism for a severe low or anxiety is cutting. I am proud to say that it has been a good stretch of time that I have gone without hurting myself, but that is where the tattoos come in.

Tattoo6

The moment the needle touches my skin I get giddy. Even when I am not in a great place mentally, I feel better. Whenever I would cut, it felt like a release. A break from feeling the way that I have felt for so long. I can breathe, and all my worries escape my mind, even if it’s just for a moment. Sometimes a moment break is better than no break at all. I have learned that tattoos give me that same relief, but it is even better. Instead of marking my body with scars, I am marking my body with images that bring me joy. There is only one tattoo that I feel “eh” about, but it will be an easy cover-up. 

Tattoo7

So here is my justification for my tattoos: They help me feel better. Mentally it is an escape, physically it helps me relax and my pieces have helped build my self-esteem. I would rather have my body marked with art rather than scars, so as long as I have the means to continue with my pieces, then you can expect to see me sitting in my favorite shop with my favorite artists.

Self-Esteem

I often wonder if the way that I physically view myself is the way that others view me. When I look at myself in the mirror, I try to avoid looking at myself because I am sick of always going through the list of things that I would like to alter on myself. I’m constantly comparing myself to others, and I am always wondering what I must have done in a previous life to look the way that I look.

My husband always tells me that I am beautiful, but let’s be honest, you’re not going to believe anyone who tells you something that you don’t believe. There is always a part of me that thinks that he feels obligated to tell me things like that because he is my husband, but usually I just respond with a casual thank you and call it a day. I know that Stephen probably really thinks that I am beautiful and it is my own issue, so I try not to allow my insecurities to get in the way of our relationship. I am extremely fortunate because I married someone who is very pleasing to the eye, so I always feel guilty that Stephen had to settle for a creature like me.

The list of the things I would want to change about me is long.

  1. I wish I wasn’t as pale as I am.
  2. I wish I was taller.
  3. I wish my hands weren’t ugly.
  4. I wish I had pretty nails.
  5. I wish my hair wasn’t so frizzy.
  6. I wish I had better control of my weight.
  7. I wish my feet were cuter.
  8. I wish I didn’t have a gap in my front teeth.
  9. I wish that my hair was lighter.
  10. In fact, I wish I had less hair.
  11. I wish my boobs were perkier.
  12. I wish I had those really cute back dimples.
  13. I wish that my lips were fuller.

There are several things that I wish I could change about myself, but alas, I am pretty much stuck with this body. I guess I should say that I highly doubt that I, Brookana Tempera, is the ugliest creature to have ever existed in the entirety of the universe, but I definitely am not what society says is beautiful. So is it societies fault that I feel this way about myself? Is it societies fault that I have a habit of comparing how I look to others? Is it societies fault that I can’t bear to look at myself sometimes? Maybe. I grew up around people who have always cared about what they looked like, and I think being around that made me conscious of my physical appearance. But even though I grew up in an environment where how someone visually looks was a significant factor, I still think that I would have had self-esteem issues. Unfortunately, I am pretty much convinced that mostly everyone has a list of things that they would like to change about themselves, and that is pretty sad.

At the end of the day, I remain grateful that I love who I am as a person. I once had a family friend refer to their body as a shell for their soul, and that still resonates with me to this very day. I truly feel like my soul, the energy that is me, does not have a correlation to my body. My body is the armor for my soul, it is the physical matter that allows me to walk alongside others on this planet, but it is not who I am.

I have another list that I think about whenever I start feeling self-conscious about how I look.

  1. I am kind
  2. I am loving
  3. I am selfless
  4. I am funny
  5. I am intelligent
  6. I am analytical
  7. I am organzied
  8. I am determined
  9. I am quick thinking
  10. I am sympathetic
  11. I am someone who fights for what they want
  12. I am fun
  13. I am adventurous

There is more to me than just my body. I am a good person with good intentions, and it is such a shame that I allow myself to get upset about what I see in a mirror. I wish that there was a way that the way we look wasn’t even a factor in how we view ourselves, because for the most part, we all have positive attributes that we often forget about. Think about who you are, not what you look like, but who you truly are, and write it down. That way, when you are feeling down because of what you look like, you can be reminded of what actually matters.

Keep in mind that they way that we view ourselves probably isn’t how the rest of the world views us. We have a tendency as human beings to exaggerate things, and I would like to think that we exaggerate our insecurities. When you constantly focus on something, it becomes easier to blow that thing way out of proportion.

Just remember this, who you are is not what you look like. If you have a beautiful soul, than that is beauty in its purest form.