Tangled Up In A Twist Of Fate 140/ Unrequited love part 3, my relationship withh God, birthdays, odd bits
Posted on March 1, 2014
After the last two weeks upbeat posts I thought I should just finish it up with a long-standing case of my unrequited love. It began early, when I could first see. Everything around me was new and really fascinating. They took me to church poured water on my head and I was supposed to begin the journey to know God. A journey that they believed that could never be completed until I died and if I tried a shortcut I’d never see or know Him. That nonsense wore thin after about fourteen years. By sixteen I was an “Other”, that classification they have when you can’t decide what religious club you want to belong to. Yeah, I went to Mass, faithfully every Sunday. I looked at the statues of the saints and Jesus. They either looked blissed out (the saints) or dying (Jesus). Not a great motivator. I looked at the stained glass windows, originally put there to instruct the peasants who couldn’t read or were too dense to grasp the nuance of Scripture. I also looked at the women. A lot of families brought daughters to Mass. I was fascinated by them. I couldn’t have them, I was a husky, awkward teen and they were beautiful. The Communion line had one or three wonderful women. Particularly blonde who received every week. She caught my attention, and the priest’s. After Catholic school, enrollment in public high school required membership in the Catholic Youth Organization. Religion classes taught by civilian warriors in the battle for Christ. Kind of like using a garden trowel to fight an emotional and sexual tsunami. I hung in because housing was attached to church attendance, by my father. I used religion again, in the military. I played the Catholic card to get out of duties on Sunday mornings. Sitting on folding chairs listening to chaplains preach about duty, war and patriotism. After basics, Sundays were devoted to recovering from Saturday night drinking. The occasional gung-ho Christian would leave a tract on your bunk. I began my search. Mostly in the library and bookstores. I was the nut who read about foreign religions that heathens practiced. This is what happened and what struck home with me.
I’ve suffered from unrequited love of a man and a woman. Not human, but the dualist entity I believe watches over me. The old guy in the white robes with long grey hair and beard with a truly bad attitude had been replaced. My God is a Yin/Yang being. Connected but separate. One but exclusive of one another. They, for want of a better term are none of the omnis we attribute to the Christian God. Rather they are a roamer in the ether traveling. Every now and again they split and hook up in an empty place and after a Big Bang (pun intended) a cosmos is formed. They move on. They don’t stay around and admire their handiwork. The Christian God watches over every little bit that happens. I don’t believe it because with all of the omnipotence, omniscience etc. How did He not know Eve was going to bite the apple, Hitler and every maladjusted sociopath from Pol Pot to Ed Gein would pop up. Why doesn’t He stop tsunamis that kill thousands of His children? Why does he et them die in something perfect created by a perfect Being. It would be simpler to just say, he wasn’t paying attention instead of coming up with the “It’s God’s will” hooey. I think it’s easier to divide the work. The male side is a malicious trickster who has the Israelites wander the desert for forty years taking a hundred or so mile trip because Moses hit the rock twice instead of once. He was thirsty and human. Job hadn’t arrived yet. The female is also a trickster but gentler and instructive. While the male side is likely to let global warming kick the hell out of California. The female side is more likely to allow asshats reach prominence in politics. The male will allow mankind design weapons that can destroy the world. The female side will put a comedian on Earth to tell us of the danger because she knows the jester tells the truth and rarely gets killed. The male tacitly allows us to transgress simple rules that are self-evident. The female gives us ulcers, social diseases, and general physical malaise for breaking the rules and she laughs.
Maybe a description is order. If you were to actually see the male part. He’d be a hippie that matured from a creator into an administrator. The beard is close trimmed, the hair is silver, George Clooney style. He wears suits, mostly but as been known to wear J. Crew. He’d like to think he’s still Liberal and benevolent but times have changed and when He’s in the office, He’s looking to cut costs. She used to be angry because He cramped her style. She wanted to raise the kids and be a hands-on mother. She’s gotten older. She’s caramel colored, with deep brown eyes that if you could look into them would see gold, and a hint of green. She’s let the conservative haircut grow into loose curls that have some grey in them. She favors jeans and loose tops with sandals (leather, thank you) and She doesn’t mind that He’s getting a bit overbearing. The kids will come to her, that’s what mothers are for. She cries for the Earth, he just looks at it as a business write-off. They both love us, but in differing ways. I take comfort in my God. Things are explained. And They really don’t ask a lot from me, just to be nice to other beings, take care of the Earth and live morally. And most of all, treat others who see Them through other eyes with respect. AND He/She has a sense of humor. They tolerate us.
Birthdays: Roger Daltrey, 70. Justine Beiber, 20. Javier Bardem, 45. Some interesting mash-ups: 1) A 20 year old Roger Daltrey meets a 20 year old Justine Beiber. Justine gets her ass kicked and Roger tells her to come back when she’s grown a pair. Or Justine meets Javier Bardem’s from No Country for Old Men. Everybody wins.
Thanks for riding along. I’m watching the Mets get trounced in preseason baseball. Been noshing on winter strawberries, they beat the alternative; Oreos. I’ve been craving them.
Asked another lady out; got rejected. didn’t hurt as much this time. Maybe next time.
See you in the funnies. Remember God, as you know Him or Her loves you.