Pocahontianism

Apparently, I have always been a relatively quizzical thinker. My mother sometimes recalls instances when I, as a small child, would pensively inquire on a topic such as suicide or the nature of the spiritual realm, often catching her slightly off-guard. I don't remember as much about those early times as I'd like to, but I know enough to nerdily study what used to be my worldview. It's easy to laugh off one's childhood beliefs as inconsequential and irrelevant; perhaps even more so in my case, having undergone a radical shift in worldview as a young adolescent. But retrospectively, the beliefs I held even as a child are surprisingly prevalent in the world, the adult world. There are names and people behind the ideas I used to assume were Truth, and having learned about them... Well, I'll get to that later. I'll interject with a bit of foundational history about myself.

I grew up in a relatively average family concerning religion: my parents were both from Presbyterian-esque backgrounds, though they attended non-denominational churches upon moving to the States a couple months after my birth. So I grew up exposed to the typical Contemporary Christianity Sunday school environment, learning the Bible stories in sing-song rhyme and coloring pictures of Pharaoh and Paul and Jesus. Anyone that has been in my presence for longer that a few minutes will verify that I have been a long-time skeptic of the Church and organized religion despite my passion for legitimate, visible, genuine, unadulterated Christianity... perhaps the reason will be more evident towards the end of this little ramble.

One of my earliest memories is from the 3- to 4-year-olds' class at Chandler Christian Church in Arizona. I remember the teacher, a kind, brown-haired woman, asking the little class, "Who here believes in Jesus?" Naturally, there was quite a large number of yeses... It was at that moment that it occurred to me that everyone in that whole big building was Christian. All the big people in the big service, the big kids that go to school, from short to tall and young to old, everyone in that big building was on God's side. I sat thinking for a minute, that it really didn't make much sense that everyone there hated the Devil if we were always being told to be such good friends. So I decided to befriend the Devil that day. After all, no story is complete without both Good and Evil fairly represented. Now, obviously I was somewhat confused about what it meant to hate the Devil, and I don't mean that this was hypocritical in any way, but I've come to remember it as the day I first discovered religious hypocrisy.

In kindergarten or first grade, we learned about dinosaurs. Every kid loves dinosaurs, but I was particularly intrigued by the part about their extinction and spent several weeks trying to figure out how it fit in to the rest of the things I knew about that happened before I was born. Well, I knew that there was a vast underwater kingdom called Atlantis. And I knew that the earth minus Noah drowned in an enormous flood that all dried up after some 150 days... And then, one day, it all clicked. Before the flood, dinosaurs and Atlantians and Noah's people ruled the earth. Then a giant meteor came from space, crashing down into the earth, landing on top of Atlantis and creating the hole in North America we now call the Gulf of Mexico. Voilà. The world made sense.

I was also a pretty hardcore believer in fairies, particularly the Tooth Fairy, and pixies and dwarfs and Santa (until March of my 3rd grade year- my mom broke it to me that he wasn't real completely out of the blue and I was absolutely shocked). It was my life goal as an 8-year-old to scientifically prove to the world that fairies existed. I wrote a long letter explaining to the Tooth Fairy how to use my camera, and when she couldn't do it, I had her draw a picture of herself. (She was a very good draw-er.) She was 3 1/2 toadstools tall, and went barefoot- I gave her some doll shoes. She made me a silk pouch with "pearls" on it. It went on this way until I was 9, at which point I'd lost all my teeth and got my little brother to promise to continue my legacy, gathering information for me.

Other than for the sake of telling a few of my (admittedly more common) early-childhood stories, this just serves to demonstrate the type of kid I was- the kid I am, I suppose. In many ways, what I am now is simply a rebirth of the way I was before I turned 8 or so. In other ways... well, obviously, I'm 10 years older, I'm a pretty strikingly different person.

In World Religions class just the other day, we were being lectured about Animism: "belief that everything in nature has a soul or spirit, and, therefore, all of existence involves the widespread presence of various spirit beings." As the lesson went on, I began to realize exactly how much what I believed before I 'became a Christian' was like Animism. My teacher jokingly called it Pocahontiansim at one point, and had us analyze the lyrics in Colors of the Wind. (What teenager doesn't relate to Disney movies?) By this point, I was thoroughly amused- since I suppose Pocahontas could actually, legitimately have had an impact on my worldview.

I had no friends in first grade. In the summer before that year, my best friend had moved to Arkansas. So, I was alone. I suppose it's not that no one liked me or wanted to play with me, I wasn't bullied or anything. They weren't horrible people. I just didn't have any friends. They all played such stupid games- horsey-horsey and house and cats were common- where they'd change roles every couple minutes and there were no stories behind their games at all (which frustrated me). No one listened to me when I'd suggest a different game, no one really cared about me: anyone can be your friend in first grade, but only if you can find something to play. (I suppose this counts for big people too. But that's for a different post.) So I sat in the corner of the playground, over the hill, where no one else could see me, crying and singing songs and talking to the spirits all around me, to the Colors of the Wind. It's ironic that he picked that very song: I remember singing with my eyes closed, standing in the middle of the field with my arms stretched out and feeling the 'spirits' sweep around me in the wind. (Describing it now, I realize that I must have looked pretty ridiculous, but I thought I was so deep.) They kept me company. Whether through the music or through the wind, it didn't matter. I didn't really have anyone else.

I kept a relatively similar view of life and nature and such the rest of my elementary years. We moved to Issaquah, Washington my 2nd grade year, so I had a surplus of nature to connect with. I would often sit in my tree, my amazing climbing tree about 30 feet away from my window, and talk to it, to the wind, to the clouds- rather, to the spirits in them. I knew I didn't understand everything that was going on, but even as I entered Middle School, I believed that there was some type of spirit that could be found in everything, some tangible force that could communicate with and comfort you. By the time I was about 11, I had grown up enough that I had realized there were no real "fairies," per say, but I believed that these "fairies" I used to believe in were just a Human creature endowed with a piece of the Natural Spirit. They were ordinary people that lived among us that had special qualities, sublime understanding, some extra power over nature. Sure, I suppose I would have called myself Christian. I believed in God. I colored all the pictures. Went to church every week. Went to the summer camps, prayed with my mother before I went to bed. I just didn't know him or care much about him.

So I found it funny that my World Religions teacher called this belief Pocahontianism. I never really thought there was a name for whatever I was before I 'became a Christian,' I just thought it'd be termed "lukewarm" or perhaps superstitious. But nope, people actually believe this, Marie, it's the oldest of all religions.........

So many people call themselves Christians. I kind of have to wonder exactly how many are actually Pocahontians.