Syncretist

"What's your religion, Sam?" "I’m a syncretist." "What's that?" "I'm an eclectic. I mix up different ideas from different belief systems." "Oh, how uncanny!" "It works for me!"

We, Joki and I, talked for a long time that evening, the 10th of March of 2020, as if she were downloading everything important into my brain. She was an avid fan of spirituality. An interesting thing that she said that struck me as wild was that if some people wanted to end the world, then the world would end for them, whilst people who did not want the end would not see it. Different people would see a different "show." Thoughts affected one's reality. She talked about "spirits" and "ghosts." She talked of "dimensions" and "frequencies" concerning spiritual "ascension." She was curious of the word "divine." She believed in sentients on other "planets" in other "solar systems" in other "galaxies." She liked astronomy and cosmology. She was very positive and believed in esoteric self-improvement. She was a rare person. In any case, she was a syncretist, as many Chinese were.

The syncretist, the mystic, the devotee, the puritan, would find a congenial climate in these regions of Asia Minor.

Born in the Philippines, I had the nickname Nonong, as my family intuitively knew that Orientalism imbued me from childhood. I grew up with the official name Victor like an Occidental in Batangas, Quezon City, and Lulu Island. Though I was nominally a Roman Catholic at birth, Buddha statues and wild bison attracted me as a child. Today, I am a Syncretist, but chiefly a Buddhist-Animist, and I believe in Science. I know that Buddhism is an advanced psychology and that biology can explain Animism. Of Buddhist kinds, I have encountered Zen from Japanese, Theravāda from Thais, and Pure Land from Chinese. Red Indians, Shintoists, Daoists, Oz Aborigines, Eskimos, Pacific Islanders, and other indigenous peoples have imbued my Animistic thoughts.

Before my own father passed away, we talked about the afterlife. My father had said that at his death, his "mind" would transfer to a newborn baby on a different faraway "planet," and there, he would grow up. Despite Roman Catholic and Baptist influences, my father believed in rebirth or reincarnation and other non-Xtian ideas. In the 1970s, he read books by Tuesday Lobsang Rampa and Erich von Däniken. Also my Filipino friend Greg believes in some non-Xtian ideas, despite that he claims to be a hardcore Baptist. It is difficult for others, especially Westerners, to understand my religious stance, of being a Syncretist, chiefly Buddhist-Animist, but not discounting other belief systems, and even inclining towards Science.

It's a sunny blue-sky 19th of June of 2025, here on Lulu Island. The couple of days have passed with my visiting the "Clam Temple," the Roman Catholic church at St. Albans Road, for likely the 47th and 48th times this year. I'm really Dharmoanimistic, a Syncretist in a wider view. Near Robinson Road, I notice the little charming green bamboo grove. Near Bowcock Road, the grand Empress Tree, "Kiri" for Japanese, is now completely devoid of its springtime purple blooms. I visit Tim Hortons café quite frequently: Bacon Farmer's Wrap, buttered Cinnamon Raisin Bagel, Iced Coffee with oat milk, and Iced Classic Lemonade.

It's a terrible winter-like start to summer this longest-daylight Summer Solstice Day of the 20th of June of 2025. Ugh! It was raining like cats and dogs this morning, with much cloudiness in the afternoon. I still know "reinos" in pinkish Volapük (it's raining). I had to wear my blue boots and bring my black umbrella. I've been to Tim Hortons café several times: Sausage Farmer's Wrap, Earl Grey Tea with oat milk, Lemon Poppyseed Muffin, etc. It was likely my 49th visit this year to the "Clam Temple"—the St. Albans Road's Roman Catholic church. I'm an Esperantist-Lojbanist. I'm a Syncretist, spiritually. Several people at church were wearing beige, which, I think, symbolizes Chabacano, Philippine Creole Spanish. I just enjoy sitting quietly in the nave and the adoration chapel, both mostly empty. Ah, the void... I tried to reach for a big heart-shaped leaf from the Empress Tree, "Kiri" in Japanese, but it was too high up.

Derek and I were speaking English, as we are long-time residents on Lulu Island. I told him that the parks in Japan are spiritual, with shrines and such. Meanwhile, here in Canada, the parks are secular, with not much spirituality. The traditional religions in Canada don't adore Nature. Derek reminded me that his family is Baptist, not Roman Catholic. I told him that I go to the Roman Catholic church on St. Albans Road, even though I'm not Roman Catholic. Years ago, Derek went to Sunday nursery at Vancouver's Grace International church, a Baptist church, as did my younger brother. My parents converted and went to that church. I came along, I told Derek, but I sat in the mostly empty balcony. I didn't tell Derek that my mentor was like Mr. Spock then. There was peer pressure for me to convert. My immediate family were previously at least nominally Roman Catholic, like most Filipinos. The Baptist Filipinos were pressuring me to go to their Christmas parties, Bible studies, and to the Mt. Baker Ski Chalet Retreat, to which I did go. I enjoyed the snow, but most of the Filipino youth tried just staying inside the chalet. I lived in Japan for some time. These several years back on Lulu Island have felt "marshy" or "swampy"—somewhat stagnant, despite that I try to edutain myself constantly. I'm a spiritual Japanized Syncretist, now living with Americanized Baptist relatives. Later in life, my family goes to a Pentecostal church for "much music." I'm more of a Buddhoanimist.

It was my 54th visit this year to the "Clam Temple," the Roman Catholic church on St. Albans Road, here on Lulu Island, this cloudy 25th of June of 2025. It's "Konkotemplo" in Esperanto for me. It was around 6 in the morning, very quiet, and there were only three of us in the huge clam-shaped nave—the void—ah! I'm a spiritual Syncretist. Later in the day, I went to Tim Hortons café several times. In the afternoon, I took a siesta at home and had a dream: There were young Japanese visitors to my house. On the ground floor, I was taking a picture of them with some Filipinos using what was called a "picture-taker" shaped like a box of chocolates, and the pictures turned out, so that the people's faces looked like chocolate! Later, awakened, I went to Kin's Farm Market to buy a yellow Manila Mango, then to FreshCo to buy a ring of shrimps with red cocktail sauce.

A hot, sunny, blue-sky day is today, the 16th of July of 2025, here on Lulu Island. As usual, I walk several times to Tim Hortons café for drinks and snacks. Today was my 70th time this year to the "Clam Temple," the Roman Catholic church at St. Albans Road. There were Polish workers doing something with the big wooden doors. I love Science, though I'm a spiritual Syncretist. At the Bamboo Grove, rose leaves littered the compost, full of fragrant rotting apples. Yesterday, the 15th, at the café, after a long time, I saw my Filipina friend Alma, an ex-worker at 7-Eleven, with her already teenage son. Then, also at the café, I saw the familiar father and daughter, who are Tahitians from New Zealand. The girl wore a pale yellow-orange hibiscus flower on her right ear. Then, I saw the familiar big Japanese-looking man mending his beige shorts at the café: "Chabacano!" he whispered. I've been eating lots of tofu lately at home.