So, three nights down, six to go. I sat outside. I sat inside. I sat outside again.
It’s weird. It’s the same thing I do every October, but it’s completely new. I don’t know. I want to say something profound about it, but it’s hard to talk about.
Sometimes you go drifting around the internet, hoping to find something or someone who puts into words what you’re struggling with. I did that and instead, I found a site of people who are all the “slaves” of their gods or “belong to” their gods, who are, for the most part, my gods.
And I’ve been thinking about that a long time, because, you know, that level of committment is not something that appeals to me in the least, but nor is it something that I’ve ever felt was wanted from the other end, either.
So, you know, you wonder–are they on the wrong track? Am I on the wrong track? What? And I think I wonder those things because I still have some good old fashioned Protestant bullshit stuck to my metaphysical shoes. That there is one orthodox way and the rest are capital W Worong.
Two reasons. One is that I do recognize the Folks they’re talking about when they talk about Them. I don’t know how to explain it better than that except to say that I read what they write and thing “Yeah, I could see Him doing that or asking for that or liking someone to offer Him that.” If I recognize the legitimacy of their experiences, isn’t that enough? Even if we’re all under some mass delusion, it appears to be the same delusion, so I guess you just roll with it.
But second, I think there’s a shared truth there of another sort. We are weak over there. It is better to have protection. Regularly, when I’m over, I’m a little kid.
So, I don’t know. I’ve just been thinking about how, sitting in the upstairs of the old place, I could just get the world to drop away and I was over one way or another. But sitting here on my own land, in my own back yard, it’s a different kind of shift taking place. I’m not going anywhere, but something is opening up.
Tiny Cat Pants 