Maybe a clarification.....

maybe vast confusion, maybe neither.

Every morning I unfold like a pair of rusty pliers, my muscles and tendons feeling like death clenches. When I finally summon enough strength to swing to a sitting position, usually with a friendly push from Amy, I rock back an forth to find my center of gravity lined up vertically over my knees and I push straight up. Once standing, I stretch again, careful not to strain too much and blow out a calf or thigh, my right leg performing a perfect thumper impression. I step cautiously toward the dresser, gain purchase, step to my left and grab my robe from a hook on the inside of the open closet door. As I slip my  left arm into the sleeve, my body reminds me  why I got up in the first place. A mad dash to the bathroom looks more like a blind man being chased by dogs. Once relieved, my day really begins, such as it is, such as they are.

Yesterday I wrote about fear and I touched on death, on dying. I probably elicited a cringe or two when I  broached the subject of afterlife using terms like judgment and halos and pitchforks. My intent was unintended. I have no interest in questioning anyone's faith, belief or religion. I have my own faith, and while it would seem unconventional to many, I'm of the belief that all faiths are unconventional. I prefer to strip faith down to it's essence, discarding any rules of engagement, all distracting proclamations and directives. Whatever I believe is my property. I'm not looking to sell it to anybody. I feel that everyone on earth is seeking the understanding of what is truth, each on a different path, all  paths leading to the same end. No matter your faith, the real conclusion and discovery will be the identical. To quote, I think, Yogi Berra: "Wherever you go, there you are!", or, if you prefer, Jim Morrison: "Slip on through to the other side".