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Wednesday, December 23, 2020

Lessons from a Fucked-up Year


I need to learn how to pray.
The old way doesn't work.
I don't think it ever did.

I need to learn how to worship.
I've never known how.
God, in truth, has always been my father.
The human one.
The abandoner. The tyrant. The asshole.
The murderer.
That's who I've been praying to all this time.
It only came clear to me this year.
This fucked-up year.

I'm tired of raging at that dickhead,
tired of feeling utterly alone,
tired of being tired,
tired of not wanting to exist anymore.

I'm tired of fear.
They control us with it, you know.
It's everywhere, and a million times more contagious
than Trump's virus.
I'm tired of cowering.
I'm going to stop.

There is a place within me.
It's always been there.
I call it the No More roadblock.
I've rammed up against that fucking thing
more times this year than in any previous.

I've had enough of a faith that has never worked for me.
I've had enough of people and their endless soullessness--
especially those who are in deep with that faith.
I've had enough of people trying to sell me something:
ideologies, political views, consumer goods, all of it.
I've had enough of falling victim to them,
to their nauseating clickbait,
their hate mail,
their fascism,
their excuse-making,
their cogness.

No more, motherfuckers. No more.

In a way, I'm grateful for this year.
It has taught me that I'm right about people,
that I haven't been judging them too harshly.
It has taught me that this society
is rotten to the core; that I was right about that too.
It has taught me that I'm wrong about God,
that my faith is founded on the ever-shifting sand
of other people's thoughts.
It has taught me that I'm stronger than I think I am,
that I need to move No More
a few hundred miles closer, not farther away.

No more praying to the dickhead,
or any dickhead for that matter.
Lots and lots of writing,
even though almost no one cares that I do.
I'm going to move more of my soul-stuff into
the spacious land of Imagination.
I'm going to let it grow there.
I'm going to nurture it.

I'm going to stop raging.
There is plenty to be angry about, sure.
Plenty to fear, too.
But I think I'm going to devote
more and more time to my little corners of the world:
the inner one and the outer one.
I'm going to focus on those few things
I can control,
if there is anything.
There may not be.

I really need to learn how to pray.