I've come to crystallize what I suspected has inhabited my psyche my entire life. I am not a spiritual human being. I don't buy into chanting or mantra or prayer or healing by committee. Without any form of identification with which to grasp the concept of spiritualism I cannot find peace within myself.
It is obvious that I'm not too hip on religion. To me, it is a contrived, overly complicated, dogma driven bastardization of the very core of simplicity that is the spirituality I don't embrace. In other words, food I don't like left to rot. I might learn to like it, but never if it has gone bad.
At this stage of my life, after a million conversations on this subject, after having read the Koran, Book of Mormon, Dianetics, studied Buddhist belief, Hinduism, Christianity, Judaism, Wicca, Atheism, Satanism, Hare Kristna, Moonies, Ba Hai, etc., I still maintain the core mindset I had in high school. Enough.
Don't tell me I failed to speak to the right people. I managed to bamboozle the priest, Fr Bushe of Holy Family, who, despite my discourse, agreed to marry me and Amy. I screwed with some Mormon missionaries by quoting the Book of (Smith) and asking what it all meant. They suddenly had a schedule to keep and took off running. I found a Baptist young man lingering around my truck and after some discussion discovered he was too busy to come inside my house and further our conversation. These are not isolated incidents. Understand that I don't know shit about any of this. I sadly learned that these people knew less than me, which is to say they knew less than shit.
I'm not saying that any of these belief systems don't work. They all do. For those who believe, they work just fine. I also commend those who are ignorant of their particular faith for spreading the word as spoken to them from their hearts. Placebo or not, its all good. If only I were so inclined.
Belief without comprehension is a hurdle I have trouble clearing. I'm struggling with myself constantly over my disconnect from everything intangible. My imagination is just that - imagination. I suppose my stubborness will be my undoing.
I rag on the very fantasies that may cure me. I minimize the potential of belief as I resist any notion of the suspension of the opposite.
My battle is with me. No other entity is involved. My head is a battlefield upon which a war between dissension and acceptance is being waged.
I'm sure I will benefit from better nutrition. I'm sure that the minimization of stress will comfort me. I'm certain that laughter and happiness will make me feel better.
I have no doubt that I will hang around for quite a long time, committed to discovering exactly what it is I need to believe, what is blind faith, what its like to trust in something without understanding it. My stubborn nature dictates it. If I could overturn even a single stone, I would upend them all.
I am bathed every day in hope though I still stink of doubt. Things gotta change. Gotta. Got to. Better.
I've yet to get my head around mind/body work. I can tug at my ears all day but it just won't bend.
Funny how I refer to my stubbornness as both a negative and positive trait. A civil war therein.
ALS is a pistol loaded with stress, fear, a touch of insecurity, a healthy dose of self imposed responsibility, a nugget of pride, maybe even some anger and frustration. At the trigger is a handful of knocks to the noggin. Whether the trigger is pulled depends on the severity of the ammunition.
