Walkabout

I have been on a spiritual hiatus for the last month, a walkabout so to speak.

In order to form a more perfect government..nah.

In order to form a more perfect union…nah.

(Wow –too much politics of late!!!!)

In order to stop being so full of shit? Well maybe.

So, I have cancer (maybe I have mentioned it before, maybe not) it’s a rare form of cancer that is of the blood/bone marrow variety and it’s incurable. (Sad-sonorous horns please).

It’s a slow mover and by all examinations of my predicament, it seems to be the one to get.

No deforming operations or horrible treatments.

No dumping bags of poison into me or shooting me with a ray gun.

None of it.

All they do is yank a bunch of blood out of me, every so often.

A vampires dream!

You see my blood is like mud, which means my brain gets a little slow sometimes, which could explain some of my odd blogs…

So be it.

At some point, it will kill me. When however, is a bit unclear. It could be many years or it could be a few years. That’s still up for debate among those who “know”.

Here’s the thing; I don’t really care. It’s true. As I live here and god reads my words:

I don’t care.

We live our lives in hopefully the best way possible and then it ends. And on and on it goes. But it is the moment that matters. In fact, there is nothing, other than the moment. And that bit of knowledge, I have found to be the most miraculous gift of all. Something that I never would have understood without cancer. Granted we all have “knowledge” about the concept of living in the now. But the actual cellular understanding of it has only come of late.

And I am thankful beyond words.

I will also add that this seems to be a common thought among folks with cancer. Live and learn!

So why should any of you care. You all have your lives to contend with. You shouldn’t.

But that’s the kicker. People seem to be preoccupied with the length of life, not what makes up that life. Sometimes to the point of obsession. If I casually make a joke of my demise it steps off alarms all over this land.

“The Russians are coming, the Russians are coming!!!”

“There is a big meteorite heading for my penis!!!!”

 

I am touched, but I think it’s silly.

 

Why am I telling you this now?

Maybe it’s because I am questioning my motives?

Maybe it’s because I am questioning other people’s motives?

Maybe it’s because I have diarrhea of the mouth! (Most likely the last one.)

And  why all of the drama, all of the pent up spit and vinegar?

Not because of the cancer, but because of my inability to live up to the man I desire to be before the end.

That’s the ticket. Give the man a Kewpie doll!

It’s the reason I became a preacher in the first place. I felt the need to reach out to people in a more spiritual setting. God has put the screws to me so maybe I need to loosen them for someone else.

I will digress for a moment to point out that second to my telling folks that I have the little C, telling them that I am now a preacher really gets their juices flowing.

“How dare you make a mockery of religion”?

“What gives you the right to say such things”?

 

You see, I am a “Dime Store Reverend”. An Internet sham. I got my certificate of ministry from an online church.

And I’m actually proud of it!!!

I can marry you and I can perform last rights. I can counsel you and I can start a church.

An Internet baptism for your kids maybe? How about a quick nip and tuck bris?

To tell the truth, I was a bit shocked by the response.

Let’s forget the fact that I have spent my entire youth in parochial schools learning the ways of “G-D”.

Let us also forget my teenage years, dosing myself with enough hallucinogens to have me declared legally insane-many times over! Yet always searching for my god in the dark corners of the world.

Let us forget that in my twenties, I spent all my time learning metaphysics and secret shamanistic traditions passed down from holy man to holy man.

Let us forget that in my thirties and Forties I have been looking in every religion on earth for a bit of truth.

I don’t know if these are things to be proud of or to be ashamed of.

In the end I am simply a man of god. Every fiber in my soul calls to him.

In the end I am also a man of sin. Every action seems to confirm it.

So there it is. The quandary.

Selah

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