Yes I am, I am also a Muslim, a Christian, a Buddhist, and a Jew.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

I say I became Buddhist by default as a result of an imposed silent retreat-excommunicated from the Christian based church I grew up in was baptized in, where my mom was baptized when she was pregnant with me. I say this half joking because it is kind of ironic the punishment which was suppose to bring me to my senses of repenting actually led me to self awareness, appreciation of my parents, and perspective. The punishment was : that no one who was a member of the church I grew up in was allowed to speak to me until the church leaders decided I was repentful for my sins.

I was now the lump of leaven that could ferment the whole lump. I was BAD ASSOCIATION that spoils useful habits-I was Jezebel the whore and the nineteen year old cinnabbery – dyed red hair rebel in me absolutely loved all these new labels.

The silent punishment was to bring me to my senses that as a sinner of fornication I should repent. The male church leaders after speaking with me over a period of two weeks, three at a time in a room by myself asking questions for up to two hours each time about my fornicating sexual encounter and sharing bible scriptures in between decided I was NOT at all sorry to have had sex out of marriage. It was decided and announced from the platform of a bible study meeting of one hundred plus members that Rebekah Marcano was no longer a member of the congregation.

I could walk into my childhood church attending bible studies-which I was encouraged to do still if I was ever to be allowed back in. Yet when I walked in no one would be allowed to speak to me. It would be at least a year of showing repentance before I would be considered for re-joining.

I became the silent observer. I was allowed a new perspective. I was not a part of the group but instead floating around like a fly on the wall. It was like watching a play. The play of life! Suddenly I had all this time to reflect and observe and just be.
The chatter was gone.

And in between all the chatter that silent little gap of non- thought I experienced bliss and peace. I would look up at the rain and see sparkles of light shining down and marvel at the drops. I would hear birds chirping and chirp along with them. When a judgment or thought about good or bad or right or wrong came up- I would let it float past and choose to be still in the present moment.

Through my time of my imposed silent retreat with my new perspective of observer I saw my parents as pure love. Both raised Catholic and married young at age 18 they accepted the knock on the door to be a part of this little bible study community in the 70’s that encouraged a happy family life and structure. We had wonderful friendships and lots of laughs and this community may have very well held our family of eight together with thoughts of hope for a brighter future.

Just as my parents left their Catholic faith at age nineteen that their parents had raised them in , I was now leaving the faith they raised me in and sneaking little glances of prayer cards with saints from my grandmother. I was reading spiritual books from different sources , drawn to the gods of Hinduism, the mantras in yoga. I was learning and respecting all faiths and allowing and understanding my parents choices.

I read of silent retreats that lead to closer relationship with God or enlightenment and found it ironic that this imposed punishment of silence pushed me away from the church I grew up in yet taught me so much about perception and perspective and BECAUSE of this I was able to experience that silent gap in meditation known as bliss or nirvana.

I was trying to survive the consequences of being rejected by the community I had grown up in. I was trying to figure out who I was outside the rules, the labels, and the expectations.

And in the process, I discovered that silence could be something other than punishment.

It could be freedom.

It could be space.

It could be a place where I could observe my thoughts without believing every single one of them, where I could feel something without labeling it, where I could exist without having to explain myself.

The church leaders wanted me to look at myself and see a sinner.

Instead, I began to see a young woman learning how to live.

A young woman who was discovering that the world was bigger than the boundaries she had been taught to fear.

I am thankful for the foundation of love and family that my parents raised me with.

I am thankful for the teachers who have crossed my path, whether they taught me through their words, their example, or the questions they forced me to ask.

And I am thankful for this moment.

Right now.

For the rain, the birds, the light, and the quiet space between one thought and the next.

For the unexpected ways life can open a door, even when we think one has been slammed shut.

And for the freedom that comes when we begin to let go of the need to be seen a certain way, to belong to a certain group, or to live according to someone else’s definition of who we should be.

Maybe I didn’t become Buddhist by default.

Maybe I simply became more willing to be still long enough to discover what had been there all along.

“You only lose what you cling to.”
― Gautama Buddha

Purity or impurity depends on oneself,
No one can purify another.”
― Gautama Buddha

A man is not called wise because he talks and talks again; but if he is peaceful, loving and fearless then he is in truth called wise.”
― Gautama Buddha

“Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything – anger, anxiety, or possessions – we cannot be free.” Thích Nhất Hạnh