I thought that today, August 27. I have been reading a Chicken Soup book off and on as of late. It was my sister’s. I think that is what helped this revelation out of my head. The last story I read before typing this was about a man who learned from a friend to simply listen. Through that he learned how to approach people – really approach people. The moral of the story, I cannot say, since my mind is not completely reliable, but…

Anyway, I thought of how many people I speak to. It is not many. Even after that inspirational story, I still did not care to talk to people. Despite that, I thought about how I’d likely ask a person telling a story to write it down for me since when it comes to remembering things… I wish for it to remain as clear as the day it occurred.

From that came the remembrance of my mother. She often relates stories to me. She related one from a girl who does her nails. It was about getting out of Vietnam, I believe. It was not the simple board a plane and go off to America. No the woman recollected from a time when she was but a child. It was the case of escaping by cramming a million people in a small boat, sailing for who knows how long without food or water and then worrying about making it to land and being able to actually stay there. They ended up in Malaysia I think. Stayed there, limited living and years of trying to get shipped off to America where they had family residing. There is much more to it, but this is about my mom being my preacher.

So, it has been established that if anyone, I talk to my mother the most or at least most of my communication deals with her. Over time I’ve talked to her about insecurities, uncertainties, lack of understandings and then just plain experiences, thoughts and often just “rubbish”. I realized I look to her like a guide. I look to her for reassurance.

Most people would say, “Is that not what a parent is supposed to be to their kids?” That is not always the case though. I think what makes my mom different is the fact that she makes me think and notice things. Perhaps it is due to her being my connection to the world.

The things she tells me tend to open my eyes once in a while sort of like how a preacher will use stories that occur recently in life to open up churchgoers’ eyes as he gives his sermon. Usually the things she tells are ones that opened up her eyes and she shares the lesson, I suppose.

What really made the thought come alive, however, was simply recollecting that trip from two weeks ago. I often feel uncertain about my lack of sympathy and empathy. Intellectually I know what I should be feeling. I have my morals, so when I am in a situation where I find myself not reacting the way I expect I should uneasiness creeps in. “What is wrong with me?” I would often think. I believe I often questioned if I was a bad person.

That trip, while we were eating, I told her I know I am grateful for things. The thing was, I never really feel it. It is more like a mathematical equation or science conclusion. I have seen, read, heard and understood things that occur outside my small world. I stop and think of how lucky I am. The thing is… I don’t feel the emotion. It is just a mental note, an observation. My mother reminded me about my Asperger’s though. She understood.

That of course sparked the thought. At the same time, it reminded me how she is the devoted Christian of the house. She goes once a week, says her prayers each morning and the like. The rest of us are not so religious. When I see things on the net where people declare atheism or Christianity… I thought, “I lack religion. Despite that, I’m not really an atheist.” Looking at the thought though… I get the feeling that my mom connects me to religion.

She knows I’m not religious, but she also knows I have a sense of spirituality and belief. I know I’ve done my searching. I did all of that in middle school. In the end, I saw all religions the same. At least, they all have the same point of worth. While most people today would say that gods don’t exist and that it is just a fabricated tale to make people feel better… I think religion has some truth to it.

I don’t have a god to follow, but I believe something is out there. I think there is something more powerful than just this existence of ours. I just cannot see it in form of anything that should be conceivable to a human. Thus, I just say, “There is something out there.”

In turn, I do think religion is a form of self-comfort. Despite that, it is also a way to invoke a sense of understanding and when done right, a sense of humbleness. Sadly, most people use it for self-righteousness and in the end all beliefs using a god or gods will end with everyone going to hell according to this or that side.

Therefore… look at the core. All of them think there is something there. For my mom it is God in Christianity. I’ll give a nod to that.