Guilt, the gift that keeps on giving. My very Catholic grandmother bestowed on me the gift that lasts a life time. And while I don't consider myself Catholic, or Christian or Jewish or anything really, I was reared in synagogues and churches of all the above. I also consequently was brought up in the school of hard knocks with the philosophy that Jose and Jack can pretty much cure all that ails and if that fails, head for Columbia. You see one side of my family was very religious. They didn't all necessarily believe the same things, but they all believed in God and for my mums best friend Challa bread as well. My father and his side of the family however could not have been less religious, which is where I was taught to rely on Jose and Jack. In fact dad's brother had a dog called Heineken. And no I am not kidding, they were classy like that. I don't talk about it much, but all of the above differences are what drove my parents from each other and ultimately from me in some way or another. But guilt, the guilt of all the beliefs has stuck with me through thick and thin. I even have the uncanny ability to feel guilty for what others should feel bad for but don't. I have severely digressed from my point, which was to say, that even though I haven't had a proper day without work since I was in Indonesia, I feel guilty that I am sat outside at Starbucks working rather then in my hotel. The weather is perfect in Dubai at the moment and I can't bear the thought of spending another day chained to my hotel room desk with the air conditioning blasting down on me. So alas, I am at Marina Walk with a very large iced vanilla soya latte working. And apparently getting distracted by updating my blog. And I feel guilty for that. And each time the prayers broadcast loudly with their melodic chorus and fluid rhythm, it reminds me that:I forgot to pay my dry cleaners before I left
I forgot to return a DVD
I forgot what CB asked me to get him for xmas a couple of weeks ago
I owe my friend £5 from lunch a couple of weeks ago
We haven't had a girls night out in ages and it's my fault
I shouldn't have been so mean to that poor man who was shouting at me yesterday calling me useless. He was only expressing his feelings!
I shouldn't have eaten that hamburger on Wed
I should drink less
I should run more
I need to call my brother
I need to call my grandmother
From Islam to Judaism to Catholicism to Jose-There is always SOMETHING to feel bad about. Thanks Gram.
2 comments:
If it's any consolation, all my family are Jews and none of them believe in God, which you'd think would be a pre-requisite. Ok, my Bournemouth family do, which is ironic given that they've had their fair share of random tragedies. If anything, they're vaguely spiritual like my sister and her dumb belief in the afterlife. The other day she told me that a medium told her that our Grandma was currently busy baking cakes. She didn't seem fazed by the fact that grandma died 13 years ago, or that she rarely baked anything when she was alive.
All nonsense, if you ask me, although I too have my fair share of guilt. Dunno why.
I also think it's contagious. Guilt that is, not religon.
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