I said I was giving myself the gift of blogging for my birthday and today is the final day of my birthday month and I have not really followed through in that regard.
One of the things hindering my writing is my continued concern for what I should be writing. I have forsaken the practice of writing just to write and it is a hard practice to pick up again. It seems like it would be easy. But I’ve got 500 different voices in my head screaming and scolding. Whichever way I turn, whichever direction I begin to form my words, I am met with discontent and disgust. There is no way to please the masses. And why do I so desperately want to? Is it not that I want to so much as I think I could? I think I could figure out the sweetest sweet spot between us all and I think that I could find the magic words that no one can disagree with and so, until I find those words, I say nothing.
Those words don’t exist do they? Even if they did, are they worth my silence and hesitation, the wasting of my gift? Are they worth the way parts of me shrivel and cease to thrive without the conduit of creating something? They can’t be. Nothing can be worth that, can it?
Self-sacrifice can be a noble thing, for sure, and if my silence and slow soul shrivel actually cleared the path for some miracle then I suppose it would be a worthy cause, but I don’t think the Divine works like that. I don’t think the death of who I am created to be is the sacrifice that is required. I think it’s more that what must be sacrificed are the things that hinder the fullness of my being that I am for some reason clinging to instead of releasing them in faith.
That’s where I see a lot of people, especially church people, kind of, maybe, doing it sort of wrong. They seek to smother the true self for some version of the church self, but the church self is just a polished shell, it is not the fullness of their creation, it is not thriving in the freedom gifted us by the Divine. It is hollow and it is putting on a show and it is not doing anything to bring to life the Love that is meant to heal the world. The light that comes from those pent-up, half-lived lives either comes in like a flash-bang, doing more harm than good or it’s too dim to really be seen or to bring anyone in to safety at all.
I look at people around me, suffocating in their striving, in their trying, in their hiding and I want to say “hey, there’s a better way” but I don’t know how. I see the way hearts are turned not from greed, but towards it under the guise of personal responsibility or the American dream. I see religious institutions giving out formulas for “right” living, stripping people of the process of having a relationship with the Divine and turning being moved by the Spirit into a prescription that people can take to be made “good”. I then see them tell the people to peddle those prescriptions out to the world under the pretense of some holy calling and all any of it has done is numb us and dumb us down to the Truth. Once we’re complacent and compliant, we are easy to manipulate and then we are easy enough to turn against one another, without a second thought. We are indoctrinated with a false gospel of a false god and we are dead set certain that we are as right as right can be.
I see the darkness that has taken over us, us church people. I want to call it out. I want to call down the heavens to battle it out. I want it exorcised. I want it destroyed.
I see people forsaking the art and mystery and power of the movement of the great Love and instead settling for “safe”. But that “safe” is a sheep waiting for the slaughter. That “safe” is a rat following the pied piper off a cliff. That “safe” is the naked emperor in his new clothes that aren’t clothes at all, but instead just his pride and foolishness on display for all the world to see.
I see us patting ourselves on the back all of that while we miss it. While we miss not only the experience of having the Divine intimately in our lives, but also miss the opportunity to enhance the ground cover of the Divine here on earth. If we are the hands and the feet and the head and the heart and the mouth and the ears of the Spirit but we are wasting our time being petty and selfish and easily fooled, then what kind of God are we housing within us, really?