Friday, January 21, 2011

I Feel Sweet

I feel sweet
Do you feel sweet?
It's amazing

- K. Leontiou, One EskimO, "Amazing"

* * *

The arc of our lives, the arc of our days, the arc of our love, this unwinding gyre spools to one conclusion: communion - with another or with several or with nature or with God, but the conclusion is inviolate: we die to ourselves and give that life, that love to the Life that surrounds us.

You are fucked without this. Roethke asks, "What is eternity for?" The fucked fear eternity because they fear their lives. When will you see the brevity of your time as eternal? My dear fucked ones, you are blessed beyond all telling. Stop shitting on your gifts.

* * *

When I was in third grade I attended St. Raymond's Cathedral in Joliet. Every Friday the entire school went to Mass. I had yet to matriculate to my First Holy Communion. Others in my class went up to the grand, high vaulted altar to receive their portion of the Host, but not me. Every Friday I was left in the pews and it made me feel little, puny, excluded.

So, one Friday I simply got in line with the rest of the mooks in my class and walked up. I had no idea that there was anything to say or do. It simply looked like so many little birds being fed by their mother, their mouths open, waiting to be fed on the body of Christ. When I got to the priest I was in a panic. He was methodically holding the host in front of the faces before him whispering "The body of Christ," and not really noticing the differences in the ruddy faces before him. When I got there and he said "The body of Christ," he was about to put the wafer in my mouth when he froze and realized I was not supposed to be there. I looked up at him full of fear. I was busted and then he did something remarkable, he smiled and let me eat from the Mystical Body.

I walked back to my pew, the wafer sticky and pasty on the roof of my mouth, a bit shaky, but glad, very glad I had gone. He never ratted me out, never made a big deal of it, never spoke of it to me or my parents. Who was he to stop me or reprimand me for wanting to join the communion?

* * *

It is to this your life bends: a cause greater than your own.

It needn't be mystical, or religious, or any such folderol. It must, however, be born of love. When you can see your life as a gift to give away, then you will have found the way to unfuck your life. Trying to keep it all for yourself, or fearing the required risk to let it go will keep you stuck and fucked. Baby, this I know.

Get to this place, find your way here by hook or crook and the old fears become objects of your sympathy and the harshness of your judgment of others, of yourself is laid to rest, and the bittersweet melancholy of wasted time simply becomes the sweetness of being alive - here and now.

Now go and sin no more.


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