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Abril 09, 2007
i just might be the reason my professors are bartenders:
"this is what it is really like" (or "this is why we make good drunks"):
i am, at this very moment, sitting in class listening, watching the group presentations from our mission projects.
i feel impatient because we are all very busy listening to each other. and congratulating each other and its all painful.
how can all these people working for good grades and heartfelt thanks be so uncomfortable for me?
what if i don't "like" the presentation? then i am the outcast.
what if i don't offer gratitude and clap loudly? then i am missing all the wonderful work done all around me.
how can my opinion be wrong? why is this happening?
i feel mean and rude and closed off
am i just immature? because i don't want to do this anymore?
it is sort like a room full of bad poems... and they are not bad to the people who wrote them but they just don't say anything to me.
and that is OK, you know, in the anne lamott sense of OKness. but it doesn't FEEL OK.
i feel like i'm taking crazy pills.
so i went to feed the meter and get a drink of water. i will survive.
went to see anne lamott and she looks as beautiful as ever.
someone stood up at the microphone amidst the huge crown of anne-fans and said i have a problem with death and crucifixion at easter, can you talk a little about that?
and she did.
she said that we need to understand our spiritual identities.
all i know is:
i don't think i should go to the tulip festival because i would just want to lie on the tulips and that would crush them.
especially a yellow tulip with one red petal.
so much depends on one red petal.
it is all quite frustrating.
and now a (wholenother) confession:
i was supposed to anoint people at the easter vigil by wiping oil liberally across and down their faces.
i didn't, i stood there with my whole head dripping oil, it was getting in my eyes and i couldn't see very well. i crossed their foreheads liberally rather than slathering them up and down with the sign of Christ.
i was supposed to tell them
"in remembrance of your babtism ... you bear the sign and seal for the kingdom of God."
but instead i said "you are signed and sealed..." so
that night i was lying in bed wondering why it had sounded a little off and i realized
the answer to that question just happened to be
stevie wonder.
and how he has permeated the vernacular
i made it sound like they were entering the kingdom of motown as if they will meet st. peter and tell him "here i am baby, signed sealed delivered."
Father forgive me, i don't know what the hell i'm doing.
Posted by crymytinyflood at 02:26 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack