‘I couldn’t believe it - my mother called me a Satanist. This bit of news reached me a few weeks after we had a huge argument about religion. I will come clean and say that I am not a Satanist - but I had a bit of explaining to do, especially to my granny who was now convinced I would burn in hell. I won’t bore you with the details of our fight but the experience taught me something very valuable,’ says  Auriol Hays.

First I must confess something - I was not always the nicest person on the planet. In my bad old days my peers and I trashed any and all forms of organised religion. I was the ringleader and relished every second of it. This changed after my mother and I argued. Let me tell you a bit about my mother first so that you understand the enormity of the argument and the repercussions it had. My mother loves her church. She is on numerous committees, presides over prayer evenings, is involved in fundraising and has a hand in almost every activity initiated by her church. This makes her a very busy person, much to my father’s dismay. He just happens to be a borderline atheist. My mother also has an uncanny ability - she can use the last words of any sentence and turn it into a hymn. My sister and I would be talking about shoes, for example, and within a few minutes my mother will belt out a celestial tune that involved someone’s feet being washed. Now don’t get me wrong, I love my mother. When anything went wrong in my life – she always pulled me through. I loved her and never questioned anything she said. Then the inevitable happened - I grew up.

My search for something ‘more’ started when my daughter was born. Suddenly I had this little person I was responsible for and the enormity of it all was overwhelming. So I went on a little spiritual sight seeking tour. My first pit stop was paganism, followed by brief stints with Buddhism and Hinduism. I finally left the tour group after a few years and decided to strike out on my own. It was in one of those quiet moments that I tuned into something ‘higher’. For the first time I could feel that I was never alone. The experience was transcendental. I didn’t for one second doubt the validity of my vision, the problem was everyone (and my mother) did. I responded in the way that children usually do when involved in a cold war with parents, I ignored her. Out of respect and sheer terror I never really shared my in-depth thoughts on spirituality. I would let my mother speak and share hers, and I thought we could go on like that, well, forever. Alas all good things must end, and the argument (well screaming match) was inevitable. Anyone who has been involved in an argument will confess (if they are truthful) that the experience was not as pleasurable as they let on. The screaming match left me terribly shaken. I was convinced that I would never see or speak to my mother again. After a few days, I decided to revisit the crime scene hoping to excavate fresh evidence that would justify my actions. What I got instead was a series of realisations.

The first involved a mirror. Time for another confession - I am clairaudient. This means that on a good day I get guidance from the ‘guys upstairs’. My husband called this schizophrenia. I asked for guidance on the matter and after a lengthy consultation realised that my mother was in fact mirroring something very important for me. I must admit that during our, hmmm, disagreement I looked at her and wondered how she could possibly believe the things she does. During my consultation, I became aware of the exact moment I became as dogmatic, judgemental and as intolerant as I thought my mother (and all people involved in organised religion) were. I would not entertain any thoughts beside my own and did not embody the beliefs I worked so hard to find. In that second all values that I tried so very hard to cultivate just slipped away because (and here’s the sad truth) they were not that deeply rooted in the first place. All I had done was theorise about my beliefs. The argument was simply an opportunity to embody them. I knew in that instant that I had a lot of work to do. And here I was thinking I was on the path to enlightenment. For the first time I saw that my mother’s beliefs were as valid as mine and that the two could co-exist. Her beliefs allowed her to get up everyday and face the world. What right did I have to call them into question or discredit them? Still the most important thing I learnt was the importance of speaking my truth. Sometimes some things just have to be said. It would have been perfect if I expressed myself in a friendly or calm way so that I could be heard. Personally, I don’t think my mother heard me, but that does not matter. I heard her and saw myself in her, and in the end that was a gift.

Auriol Hays is a musician/songwriter/music teacher based in Johannesburg. She also dabbles in the odd bit of freelance writing and editing every now and then.
   
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