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and the grief is endless, I still think of you and miss you everyday – I still weep and wail and wonder out loud to God. I love you and I miss you my friend.
Why is there such violence in the bible, and in God’s name?
I understand this, because even as I write these words, about peace, harmony and love, about a god that desire openness, forgiveness and brotherhood; I feel the frustration and desire to provide you with consequences that are severe and tangible; to tell you that you ought to be food, given the way humanity behaves toward each other sometimes, it would seem in my mind that you would serve a much higher purpose as food.
But these are my thoughts and not god’s and the truth is that they are merely my desire to control and to run the show, to ensure as (in my ego) only I can that you will do as god wants.
Of course, the other truth is that there are consequences and though they sound light and simple, there is not much that could be more severe. It is unfortunate for us westerners that Buddha and Lao Tzu did a much better job in uncovering and articulating those consequences; in short you can either walk as god wills and upon the path of peace and joy or be violent and miserable.
you cannot write because you are not present
you are not paying attention anymore
to the world around you
these chopsticks are bowed and frayed at both ends, with long splinters spanning their length
you ate an entire meal with them and did not notice
I would stand in the pure light, bare and arms outstretched
touched by and touching many, flesh and flesh and joyous flesh
but longing, aching, drawing always back, flesh, heart and soul to you
your illuminating touch, and sweet breathe of love is the wind
upon which I will thread the eye of the needle and be carried off
into the light pure light of heaven, to wander eternal with you
hand in hand without fear, worry or pain; dancing, laughing with my angel
having been turned upon the lathe of heaven, but perfected by you
My one thought, brightest light, beautiful sky; home of my soul.
Faith – the Word and the women will save me and drag me out of my darkness
Mother, whisper on the wind that blows between my ears
Blinded by my darkness, stumbling frantic, here I am again
knowing you must be near, but losing faith and less sure
with each moment that I cannot feel you, lashing out
I am not myself the moment I feel that you have left me
Mother, touch your hand to my chest, rest your head there
let me feel your warmth washing away the pain and fear
Whisper sweetly to me until I find the light, hope and peace
Free me to be happy and useful again and in that light
guide me to be all that you would have of me, I am ill
and slow of mind and your signs must be loud and bright
lest I am lost and imprisoned by my own darkness again
I am a fool and a mongrel
but a prophet, husband, lover and father
all the same
Mother, where are you? Touch me, whisper wisdom and courage
fill up my empty mind with truth and joy and hope, enough to share
“Remember that we deal with alcohol-cunning, baffling, powerful! Without help it is too much for us. But there is One who has all power-That One is God. May you find Him now!” Big Book of AA, How it Works
Step Two, I am realizing today presents a problem for me, one that is perhaps unique to someone who has had more than a few days sober. I know, deep in my heart that God helped me to get and sober and continues to help me stay that way. I do not have to believe anymore.
That said, for most of my sobriety God has been a formless, secret and invisible benefactor. In spite of trying them on and professing to worship a variety of higher powers, I have taken no name for God and not set of rituals and associated beliefs into my heart and for the last year I have found myself wondering if that is not blocking me off from God in some ways, either small or vast.
There are times at which I feel like I know God better than any human has the right or ability to, and other times where I feel that I was a fool for ever thinking or believing anything about God at all.
God can restore me to sanity, but only if I am ready and willing, only if I can come to God. But If I believe in a God, then why do I lay awake at night now, pondering and agonizing over my own mortality, why don’t I have the certainty in my heart that there is an after life?
There are so many times I find myself wishing I had the certain and absolute beliefs that Christian’s and other followers of organized religion have. I wish often that I could be Christian actually, maybe non-denominational or Catholic, but they are too distant from my personality and my understanding of God and much of what I see of their God, I cannot condone.
I could go on and on about this, the point is, I am in existential crisis and Step Two is not a matter for of wondering if God can restore me to Sanity, but rather a question of whether or not I am going to allow God to restore me to sanity.
Chances are, I will have to transform myself or be prepared to transform myself even further and mold myself to fit God, rather than find a God that fits into the mold that I have made and that is a very uncomfortable thought.
I know that for me, finding the answer will start with consulting Walt Whitman, a dreaming of a cave I used to fly to to talk with my vocational ancestors, unchaining my mystical, spiritual self and embracing it without being embarrassed, self conscious or afraid.