Is Anyone Else Feeling the Same Way?

Is Anyone Else Feeling the Same Way?

Cassy Huidobro

Miranda Park Press

Contents

Untitled

Foreword

1. The Questions Came

2. The Voice

3. Exploration of Churches

4. To Utah, With Love

5. Jesse

6. My Mind Started to Change

7. Trickery, I Tell You

8. Journey of Souls

9. The Right Path?

10. Support

11. Sedona

12. The Times Before

13. Meditation

13 (and a half) Releasing

14. Life Happens

15. What Now?

16. The Peace Corps

17. Poetry

18. Puppy Love

19. Love. Gone. Again

20. LIP

21. A Lesson in Forgiving Myself

22. Slowly Getting the Guts

23. Juan

24. Leveraging Dreams with Finances

25. Finding the Dream

26. Insecurities and Nightmares (Still)

27. Hobby, Job, Career, Vocation.

27 (and a half) The Condor and the Gap

28. Finishing This Book

29. Signs

30. The Cave

31. Closure

32. Surrendering

33. Realization

34. Finally, Answers!

35. The End

Epilogue

Untitled

Acknowledgments

Poems Cited

Bibliography

Endnotes

Untitled

About the Author

Is Anyone Else Feeling the Same Way?

Published by Miranda Park Press

Lakewood, CO

Copyright ©2017 Cassandra Huidobro. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the publisher/author, except by a reviewer who may quote passages in a review.

All images, logos, quotes, and trademarks included in this book are subject to use according to trademark and copyright laws of the United States of America.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017911862

ISBN: 978-0-692-91642-1

SELF-HELP / Personal Growth

QUANTITY PURCHASES: Schools, companies, professional groups, clubs, and other organizations may qualify for special terms when ordering quantities of this title. For information, email MirandaParkPress@gmail.com.

All rights reserved by Cassandra Huidobro and Miranda Park Press. This book is printed in the United States of America.

Created with Vellum

To Vanessa, Isabel and Wendy: Thank you for always encouraging my adventures.

To my nieces and nephews: Always wonder.

And to you, seeker. Search inexhaustibly until you find, or surrender to the peace of the mystery.

I wrote this book hoping to connect, offering solidarity if you’ve ever felt the same way. Here, I share a story of self-exploration. I hope you’ll someday share yours as you find what’s true for you.

I will forever be a student of my mind.

All names have been changed for the purposes of anonymity.

In this book, God is equal to The Universe, Source and Divine.

1

The Questions Came

It all started in the 3 rd grade. I asked the nun, If God is only one, how is he with everyone? Does he split himself into a million ways, or does he have representatives? The nun looked at me and said, Yes. Yes to what? As if she had heard my thought through the confused look on my face, she said, Cassy, you just have to believe to see.

What? I didn’t want to just believe, but also didn’t need evidence. What I needed was a good, logical explanation. Who has the answer? Who can explain this to me?

The next day, resolved to ask more questions, I went to Catechism class. I raised my hand and asked the priest the same thing. He said, If I were you, Cassy, I’d wonder if I was ready to do my First Communion.

What?! How can I be a child undeserving of my First Communion for asking questions?! Doesn’t it have more to do with how good I am to my parents and siblings?

Seeing the priest act like this was frustrating because I still had so many questions about the spiritual realm I needed answered. Questions for which he’d surely send me to the principal or worse, call my parents. Yet these questions brewed in my mind:

Why are there so many religions and is there really one right one?

Is there really a Hell? If so, is it a scary monster Hell or an internal perpetual torture Hell?

Is God sitting on a cloud watching us? Does he have a beard?

Are past lives a real thing?

Are ghosts real?

Is there a purpose to me being here on Earth?

Why do I feel so awkward and out of place all the time?

Why do we have free will if we supposedly have a path?

What’s intuition?

Why am I asking all these questions?

If I asked what was really on my mind, I knew I wouldn’t get to celebrate religious milestones in my school. So, I stayed quiet and saved my questioning (for a couple of years anyway).

In 5th grade, while in Religious Studies, I couldn’t contain myself and just had to ask in front of everyone, Was the apple really an apple, or was it a representation of something else? While the word sex was on my mind, I didn’t say it. I didn’t really know much about it, just that it was forbidden until marriage. One of my friends believed Adam and Even had sex because how can an apple be bad? So, I asked the question. The nun was of course not happy and shushed me as quickly as possible.

I realized questions were the devil. I couldn’t ask anything and feel OK about it, but I really wanted the knowledge. I was hungry for it and no one would give me any answers. Why? I didn’t know.

Even when I would ask adults in my family something, sometimes they wouldn’t know. I needed answers so badly to everything and anything my mind could conjure about religion, but I couldn’t get answers to most of them.

One day, I had questions about Jesus and Mary Magdalene and I asked one of my non-religious studies teachers. Were Jesus and Mary Magdalene married? If not, were they at least dating? To which I got, Cassy, Jesus is your friend. You don’t talk about your friends, do you?

Oh golly.

I came home after school and thought about asking my mom if I could just talk to Jesus myself. Dial him up somehow. Maybe he could answer some questions for me? Yet I knew there was no way I’d get an answer from my mom to dialing up Jesus, so I just gave her a hug, pulled out my homework and that was that.

I was always a happy child, but having so many unanswered questions bothered me. I felt bad about it. I felt like I was being an unfaithful child of God for not trusting. It wasn’t a good feeling and I tried to avoid it, but something inside of me always urged me to go further.

2

The Voice

Years went by and my family moved from South America to the Washington, D.C. area. There, my inquisitive mind was still dissatisfied and wondered if answers would ever come. Before I knew it, it was time for college. My sister and I moved to Utah for school where we made lives for ourselves. In college, I recommenced my investigation by taking history classes involving different religions. My professors were incredibly knowledgeable, but if I threw a curve ball, forget it. Some couldn’t answer or would say they’d get back to me, and sometimes never would.

I started to think some questions just didn’t have a response, but that seemed impossible. I read on every subject I had questions on, or I’d ask any experts I encountered. I didn’t know why I kept looking, but I did. I wanted answers. Any answers. I needed to know. Whatever it was, I wanted the response to come from someone who knew better than I did.

And one day, after hearing again, I don’t know, Cassy. You just have to trust from yet another instructor, I finally cried. No, I burst into silent tears. I could no longer handle that answer.

Who has the answers?! I thought as I wept. Who?!

And then, I thought I heard:

Voice: You.

Me: You who?

Voice: You.

Me: Do you mean books?

Voice: You.

There was no one talking to me. This voice was in my head. I wasn’t the professor so I knew I didn’t have the answers. I ignored the voice and moved on.

Later, sitting on my couch in front of my coffee table, I cried some more. I realized I didn’t know who had the answers, but I wanted them. I’d forgotten all about the voice I heard earlier and was still wondering who else could I ask for the answers I sought.

More time went by and I looked for answers in different people, different cities, different countries, under rocks, in caves, in books, in movies, in documentaries, in anything. I just wanted to know.

All of the above did bring me some clarity in different topics. Some answers I could’ve totally gone without. But looking for them was always fun.

But what was I really looking for? Why did I need all these answers?

3

Exploration of Churches

Iwas a Catholic who couldn’t take communion because of my sexual preference, but I still liked going to Mass because I enjoyed some of the traditional aspects of the church. I had a certain emotional tie to Catholicism since it was the religion of my birth, but had a hard time with some of the beliefs.

I got to know aspects of the Mormon faith closely when some of my family members converted to the LDS religion (an interchangeable term for Mormon) as a teen. I didn’t take the conversion well. I would leave the table when the rest of my family prayed over the food, or stared at them when they’d close their eyes to pray, not being present in prayer. Or, if my mom hosted church gatherings at my house, I’d make sure I’d have somewhere else to be, or be totally separated in my room. I was being childish and disrespectful and I knew it, but I continued to be a brat about their choice for a good 12 months. I didn’t see the point. Why go from Christian religion to Christian religion? I’d think back then. I mean, if you’re going to convert, convert to something totally different. Be a Buddhist or something.

Although I hadn’t come out back then, I didn’t see the point to getting baptized into a religion that had a similar stance on homosexuality as the Catholic church, so I didn’t convert. Thankfully, my mom never forced me to, letting it be my choice. This simple act of choice made Mormons OK in my mind and, little by little, I let up. My family was happy in the Mormon religion and I was happy for them. Plus, the Mormons who came over were always nice and willing to help us around the house. I thought they were just coming over to convert me for a while, but they just kept showing up, even if I wasn’t going to convert. Eh, I thought. They’re not that bad.

While the Catholic and Mormon religions couldn’t fill my heart completely, I can honestly say, having been around both faiths, I don’t have a problem with them. Yes, I know each of these religions (and not just these two) have horror stories, but I’m one of those people who supports whatever makes you happy if you’re not hurting anyone. If that’s religion or spirituality, great. Some people need something to believe in and I hold no judgement toward it, especially because I’ve always believed in my connection to something greater out there. This something greater, I personally and shamelessly still call God, in addition to other more universal names (Divine, Source, Spirit). Lately, I’ve also found much happiness in nature. To me, that’s also God.

I don’t think religions are inherently cruel. It’s us humans who have our own agendas for the religions in the world. Because traditional churches didn’t seem to give me the answers I sought in a way that spoke to my heart, I kept searching for spiritual answers.

Over the years, I went to a Pagan ritual, a synagogue, a Hare Krishna gathering, different Baptist churches, asked my Muslim friends questions about Islam, and attended a political church (I’m still confused about that one). Each had their own beliefs and traditions. And, as they answered my questions in their own way, some answers I took depending on how my heart felt about them, some I left behind.

I must say the best answer I ever got to my question, Why are there so many religions and is there really one right one? Came from my friend Sito, a Hare Krishna.

He said to me,

Cassy, it’s like this: Each planet orbits around the sun. To me, Krishna Consciousness is Mercury, the planet closest to the sun, and Catholicism may be Venus. However, to Catholics, Catholicism is Mercury and Krishna may be Venus. But no matter where we fall as a planet in the solar system, everyone gets light from the sun.

I was suddenly so glad there were so many religions to choose from. Different flavors for different lifestyles. I never again wondered why there are so many religions in the world. People are just trying to get closer to the sun in their own way.

4

To Utah, With Love

After college , I moved away from Utah for a short stint in New Jersey and I didn’t see Sito anymore. As I drove away from Salt Lake, I thought about my time in the Beehive State.

It had been almost reverse psychology: Being a triple minority in Utah, Hispanic, female and having a preference for women, gave me the chance to show people, just by being me, that I wasn’t a threat in any way. The more people got to know me, the more they looked at me as a human being and not as gay or brown. At the end of my 16-year stay in Utah, I had learned that people are simply afraid of the unknown. Once they realized I wasn’t a scary creature, they came to me. It didn’t stop some missionaries from wanting to convert me once and for all, but I understood this is their work.

All it ever took was a Hey there! I’m not interested, but thank you. If they were persistent, which at times they were, I’d tell them about my preference for the ladies and they would stop. I was never mean and they always walked away with an awkward smile and a wave.

It is my belief that a spiritual person, a truly spiritual person, knows better than to hate another human being, regardless of their differences. The people who attack people like me or anyone considered the other are truly asleep in their own world. It is up to us to awaken their senses and teach them that deeply, we are all human beings. We all bleed the same, hurt the same, laugh the same and especially love the same.

I’ll never disrespect my family’s religion or anyone’s for that matter, for I know we are all looking for connection to something and