I am moving into a phase where I am going to be pretty much straight with reality. No more hoping for a mystical experience. No more dreams. No more delving into secret ancient texts in hopes of unveiling novel wisdom. Reality has kicked my butt, but for good. My prayers are going to be basic prayers for forgiveness and prayers to kill my haywire self.
Simplicity. Basic awareness of my being. Awareness of other beings. Freedom from oppressive thoughts and desires. The will aligned with the self. The self aligned with the world that it apprehends as is. There are no more alternate realities, higher planes, demons, angels. This is not to say that they don’t exist, but they don’t exist for me. If they one day decide to insert themselves into my world, then they will exist for me.
Why am I a Christian? Because I’ve tried to not be one, and I couldn’t make it as a non-Christian. Because it is the tradition deeply embedded inside of me from my earliest days. I could no more stop being a Christian than I could stop being a man. Which is to say that it’s possible to do, but the shoe wouldn’t fit.
I am not a Christian because I am especially righteous. I am giving up the pious schtick. I am not righteous. I am not even that nice. I frankly don’t care what you are. Would I stop being a Christian if some dictator told me to stop or die? I don’t know. I can’t say because this hasn’t happened yet. Do I believe in heaven and hell? I do, but I don’t think anyone has ever properly and certainly stated what these two places actually are. I am more inclined to think of hell as being the perpetual wheel of death and rebirth as espoused by Buddhists, and heaven as a place you can return to when you are 100% done with living and dying as a human being.
But, I don’t even wish to speculate on these things anymore. It does me no good. The most good that I’ve gotten out of life has been when I just decide to go out and do life. I wake up and I exist. I go about my business, and I care little about the business of others, except when they need my help and ask for it. Do I care anymore about what happens during the Trump years? Only as much as I’ve always cared about what might happen under any president, at any time. The odds of Trump becoming a dictator are slightly higher than they would be with Hillary or past presidents, but it’s not unthinkable that just about anyone would have/could have declared martial law and taken away all of our freedoms.
I want my days to be sweeter and lighter than they have been. I have been carrying around these heavy loads that belong to others or belong to no one. I formed such heavy loads for the sake of thinking I needed a weight on my back like everyone else seems to have. Maybe it’s time to just stop worrying altogether. When an opportunity presents itself, it will. If it doesn’t, that’s fine, too.
My own world hasn’t changed much in the past twenty years outside of the various self-created dramas and illnesses and conflicts. If I removed my own will and ego from the picture, I can see that what was left was pretty much the same life being lived out from day to day. I got excited about things that I wasn’t genuinely excited about and got upset about things I didn’t especially need to be upset about in hopes of attracting the interest of a wealthy mentor or a lovely spouse. I can see now that at the end of the day I was just a dud–a rather uninteresting man who preferred to walk and jog and read a book or two, and put a few thoughts down on paper. I needed little else.
The world of being that is free from preconceived notions about what that being must look like is actually a very sweet world. It is uninteresting to others, and it will never be a world that gets its own television series, but it is a world far more lovely, safe and comfortable than a world full of drugs, alcohol, live music, tattoos, video games, etc.