Le Monde

Le monde est né

The world began as I awoke from the hard dream. Through the sweat and fever of misunderstood symbolism and unfounded fears, I trudged into consciousness to behold you. It was warm in the bed next to you. Your smell rose through the sheets and wafted into the air like flowers, freshly bloomed.
Intoxicated, I lay back down and bathed in it.
It was like this every morning, of every day, since the world began and I wished it would be so until the sun collapsed on itself. Leaving all for dark.

Le monde est beau.

It is sometimes hard to remember the morning. Our days are filled with discontent. Our dreams have been vanquished, alongside lost empires of grace. Vanquished by those who feed on our souls. Out of hunger and out of loneliness.
But most of all, they feed for the sheer joy of the kill.
I surf this wave of discontent hoping for a smoother ride, hoping that it doesn’t crash and burn. Hoping beyond all reason that I don’t end up a hollowed out shell of a man. Living for all the wrong reasons and dying for the only one left.

Le monde est terrible

Yet despite all of the toils we share, the world is still a beautiful place, with many wonders that continue to unfold.
And you-the most wondrous of them all-how do you unfold?
Like the petals of a flower that bring a sweet aroma to the air?
Like the layers of an onion that make me cry? Or is it more like a summer storm in the east. Hot and humid before the roiling tempest arrives. A tempest that Zeus himself would have been proud of.
Then the calm, the clearing of the air and the fresh breeze.

Le monde est l’amour

We are a species of duality. We want what we can’t have and we have what we don’t want. It is a hard piece of knowledge to own this thought. Can we break this chain?
Do we even want to? I wish I knew for sure.
I wish I could still smell you in the breeze.
I wish I could…

I look for you over the wires. I look for you around the corner. I look for you in every pair eyes that I see on the street. Our search for love has found new paths to confuse us, but none of them arrive at the destination any sooner. So we date via proxy. We love via electronics. We pretend to speak volumes with only 160 characters.
Yet we hang our heads in shame, owning the fact, that we need so much help to find that wondrous bed in the morning of the world.

Selah

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Existential Endoscopy

Don’t you ever wish there was some sort of device that you could insert in your vein or down your throat to tell you what’s going on in your soul/spirit?
I mean it, seriously.

Doctor: Well Reverend, it seems that you have some redness on your 4th chakra, which could be serious, if not taken care of immediately.
Rev: Really, what could happen?
Doctor: Well, and mind you, these are extreme examples, but you might have a problem low self esteem, depression and actually even have a problem with abandonment.
Rev: Oh man, you know I have been feeling mighty dreadful lately. Could dread be one of the symptoms?
Doc: Absolutely! But, there is a more serious matter.
Rev: Huh? What could be more serious than that?
Doc: It seems you have a large amount of scarring on your heart chakra. Have you been having a problem recently with sustaining relationships or building new ones?

Wouldn’t that be awesome? Instead, we get this hazy glimmer of understanding from God, our higher selves, shrinks and even friends (if we have to). All of it comes with serious amounts of baggage, not necessarily our own.
My search for the path, is fraught with so many mistakes and missteps, that I couldn’t count the number of them, even with a logarithmic calculator. But there they are. Dead smack in front of me-on the path-glaring right back at me with that sick evil smile, that let’s me know they could have be avoided if I had just gotten diagnosed.

Doc: So ultimately Reverend, it seems that if you took your medicine regularly, we could have minimized, if not avoided the effects of these problems.
Rev: Look doc, you can’t be serious, I can’t insert those into my…
Doc: Well that is the quickest way to that chakra, but you can crush them up and put them into your food, I guess.

Now, I generally don’t mind mistakes. I think it was Edison, who after the 99th failure at the light bulb said,” Now I know of 99 ways not to do it”. I kind of dig that concept, but truth be told, I get weary. Just like the rest of you, I get tired of the grind to godhead.

Selah

The Chalice

I asked to be the chalice, the vessel of your wisdom. I prayed all night and sat in the ephemerally chimerical gardens of Gethsemane. In my mind, it was a beautiful goblet-jewel encrusted- and overflowing with deep understanding and empathy. Instead, when I opened my eyes from the fevered rush, I beheld a garbage can full of my own misgivings.
I wasn’t-well, maybe I was-trying to be (assume) more then I am.
A wise benefactor; the oyster that brings forth pearls of wisdom.
I guess I’m not there yet, maybe I never will, but that should teach me a lesson.

You cannot want to be the chalice.
You cannot want to be the savior.
You cannot want to be the one.
You can only be.

It would probably be good if I took my own advice at times, but the battle in my head between large and small, right and wrong, ego and id, is sometimes too large for me. I get lost in the cup, floating around like a fly in the soup.

Waiting for the bad joke.

Now don’t get me wrong, inherently my job, as a preacher is to spread the word. To pass on the knowledge that I gleam from the heavens and deliver it to you in a manner that is palatable and understandable. I take this job very seriously. But it is not my job to take myself that seriously. The thought of being the chalice is so encumbered with hubris and ego that there is no way to do it correctly and not commit egotistical suicide.

Death by drowning in too much of one’s self.

An ugly-but deserving end.

Selah

A Women’s Place benefit

I just want to remind everyone of the benefit this Thursday at 6pm at the hotel COVA for A Women’s Place. Is’s an amazing organization that need’s your help.
Please come and show that you care.