Ok, so those of you who know me in person, and have known me for a long time will know that I didn’t like and wasn’t interested in Aussie rules football. My love for that style of sport was Rugby Union, and underneath probably still is. However, living with two sons and a husband, and living next door to people who loved Aussie rules footie, there came a point in my life when I felt I needed to barrack for a team! In fact, I only discovered what the Ruck position was when my youngest son played it when he was younger, and as it was the most terrifying thing to watch, I only ever attended his football matches once a year. Yes, I know, I was a disgrace to Aussie motherhood!! I had watched footie as a kid, but had no interest in it whatsoever and knew nothing about it, so how on earth would I choose a team I wondered. Well, I knew the West Coast Eagles club doctor, so decided they were the ones! A simple decision, an easy choice! Unfortunately they were mostly at the bottom of the heap when I was supporting them, but I stuck with them through thick and mostly very thin… Until a special girlfriend’s son was drafted to play for the Richmond club in Melbourne. Well, I was much closer to her than to the WCE club doctor, so switched clubs. A traitor you might think, shallow and probably even un-Australian? Well, not to me, and I’m sure not to the West Coast Eagles as they had no idea I had been in their club! So, decision made to switch clubs, Richmond it was, and once again, my team was at the bottom of the heap. No dramas to me, I followed them faithfully year after year until the final eight, which of course, they were not in and I remained faithful in spite of this. Devotion and loyalty, onwards and upwards towards the winners’ cup. The next stage of my Aussie rules supporter career took another sharp bend, Bradley moved to Geelong, and my support and faith for his old club went out the window, following him. His team not only broke a drought, they gave me a reason to scream and shout, to belong to a club, and now that he has retired, I have wondered, what will become of my football supporters career? As the boys have mostly left home, and my dementia has taken over the television, it seems I’ll switch back to Rugby, or perhaps not bother with football of any type at all.

About now, you might be wondering what all of this has to do with religion, with God, or Buddha, or Allah or whatever and whoever you may or may not believe in.  For me, they may well all be the same, that is, same God, different Club? One of my blog readers mentioned they were pleased I had referred to the Universe rather than to God in one of my blogs. I wonder what difference it makes, as none of us can absolutely prove any of our own spiritual beliefs. They are just that, beliefs, or faith; whatever you choose to call your own spirituality surely doesn’t matter, and shouldn’t matter to anyone else. It is after all, a very personal choice to join a club that has rules and leaders you believe in, and members you like being with, who profess to follow someone and something, as they and therefore you see fit. Over dinner at home one night we were discussing whether or not God was female (at that stage the children were going to a religious school, and the Christian God was discussed a lot). I suggested this was not possible, otherwise men would menstruate. A humorous, light hearted remark made over our dinner table, or so I thought.  Of course, I did not expect this would be repeated in the religion class at school the next day, and was definitely surprised to get a very distressed phone call from the religion teacher telling me about this comment was made by one young son! What could I say, other than it had been something we had been discussing over dinner? Football, religion, spirituality, sailing, knitting, praying, meditating… whatever is your thing is up to you and certainly okay by me.