Choices always were a problem for you.
What you need is someone strong to guide you.
Deaf and blind and dumb and born to follow,
what you need is someone strong to guide you..
like me, like me, like me, like me
If you want to get your soul to heaven, trust in me.
Now don’t judge or question.
You are broken now, but faith can heal you.
Just do everything I tell you to do.
Deaf and blind and dumb and born to follow.
What you need is someone strong to guide you.
Deaf and blind and dumb and born to follow.
Let me lay my holy hand upon you.
My Gods will, becomes me.
When he speaks, he speaks through me.
He has needs like I do.
We both want to rape you.
Tool Opiate
Simmer down just a lil there Maynard.
Rape is not one of the big Christian no-no’s ever notice that?
I get the sentiment though. Giving yourself over to God, brides of Christ. It’s a lil rapey.
Maynard was raised in the church, it colors a lot of his work and I understand that.
I was raised outside of the church and it colors everything I do so ya, I can empathize to a degree.
I had to find my own spirituality.
I think we all should really.
My ex wrote a book proving the existence of god.
He isn’t Christian at all, Atheist actually. Polyamorous pragmatist with Buddhist tendencies to be totally fair.
But ya.
He proved God exists.
I can’t remember how exactly, something about collective consciousness manifesting in actuality.
Seems we accidentally manifested a version of God who’s inactive and apparently Lucifer is down here causing death, cancer, rape, war, child abuse etc…so God gets away with not doing a whole lot, and Satan gets blamed for actual occurrences. I feel like that system is a little flawed.
So be it.
Not my circus nor my monkeys. In fact if any God worth his salt, who created this amazing planet for us to live on, saw us putting monkeys in circuses or any of the other fucked up shit we do to each other or our fellow inhabitants of the planet should have thrown and tantrum of epic proportions some time back in ancient Rome. But those Gods were human, emotional, vengeful, generous and fallible. We traded them in for this sleek new version and he isn’t doing a lot of smiting these days. We are overdue for a reckoning. We could really use another flood down here.
Again, we have managed to manifest this omnipotent being into existence and then held him responsible for sweet fuck all.
This I don’t get. Too many juxtapositions and glaring discrepancies.
But if you need a security blanket and you want to call it God, by all means. Whatever gets you through the night. I get that.
That was not the point of this post.
I know someone in the beginning stages of AA.
And since the second word is anonymous I shall not say whom.
They are struggling with the idea of giving themselves over to a higher power.
I get that. It is a little culty and preachy. So how do I help this person find their version of god?
I have my own shortcuts to the divine.
Anyone who wants to say that caffeine is not a drug has not ingested 5 cups on an empty stomach, on very little broken sleep, whilst emotionally charged, mildly traumatized and euphoric due to a warm sunny day mid-March. I think I saw god. (Facebook Status, mid-March apparently)
I see god often.
Or my version of god that is.
He lives in the sunshine. In the funny old lady noises my dog makes. In the dimple on that boys right cheek. In the color of his dissipating irises when he looks at me and his pupils dilate. In the first feeling of his hands on me and every moment after. In certain tones and notes of particular songs. In sunrises, sunsets, skinny dipping. In love and laughter and most definitely in that first sip of coffee in the morning.
Heeeeey. Wait a minute.
Isn’t the Devil in the details?
I might actually worship Satan. Satanists believe that women are valuable creatures not chattel. That our base instincts are not flaws to be beaten down, but gifts to explore. Ya, I think I’m team Morningstar.
My AA person expressed jealousy that I find joy in walking along the beach picking up rocks.
I do.
I am definitely a little things person. I wasn’t always.
I would reserve my happiness for the big things and they came so rarely, ended so quickly, left me feeling really empty afterwards.
I had to look inwards. Quiet the outside world. Be in the moment and realize what actual brought me joy, no matter how small.
Once upon a time I sat in Milton, one warm summer morning, sipping my coffee on the back deck, sun rising, dew twinkling, watching an aerial dogfight play out between a thousand dragonflies, witnessing the impossible flight of the bumblebees, and being privy to intermittent visits of a dozen hummingbirds it dawned on me… Only the small things matter. That is where my god lives.
My friend’s might lie in the memory of temples climbed. The smell of incense, the chanting of monks, the realization that we are all small and only part of something larger.
That seems like a good place to start looking for God or something godlike.
