Chaotic churning, Emotions et. al

Dear God,

I use the word God because it’s resonant, feels like an encapsulation of intelligences that I will never have in this corporeal form.  Perhaps you are a collection of intelligences, or a self-aware being that is just a cell of a somehow more self-aware being.  I’m unable to know. 

I ask things of you all the time.  I pray to you before I sleep at night, asking you to see me, to understand that I try my hardest to not be petty, to not perpetuate suffering.  I ask for guidance.  I used to ask for blessings before I started seeing the parallel between a blessing and a kick in the stomach.

I do want things though.  I don’t mean physical things, but more peace of mind.  I want my heart to stop hurting.  I want an easing of my suffering.  These are selfish, and aren’t so much requests as they are statements.  I want those things, but I certainly don’t expect them. 

In thoughts to you, God, I find myself using the word “I” so very often.  The implication is perhaps a disconnect.  I could speak in terms of “We” where you and I picnic in some cosmic state of enlightenment where sorrow is alleviated and you hold my hand and the valley that I often find myself walking through is inverted to a mountain pass where we see all horizons, in an 11th dimensional panoramic fracture of light and states of being.

But this is not how walking is as of late.  I feel sorrow and though I know there are those who suffer in ways that my imagination cannot give me the experience of, I think there is no real comparison between sorrows.  It is a tarred stone in my stomach and a spider-web encapsulating a heart full of bees.  It is a suspicion that I am despised and despicable, that I am conniving and a victim of abuses I cannot perceive.

Many would call this ego and pride and though I think it is that, it is also something else.  Just as any bit of matter exists in multiplicity, pockmarking the multiverse, so can a state of being be described as many things, many incarnations, many types of pain and joy.

I am so sorry I feel this way.  It’s not guilt in the Catholic or Jewish stereotype, but I truly want to apologize to you for being blind and stupid.  I am some ignorant cave dwelling creature so unused to brilliance that walking in the world is often clumsy and accompanied by shame.  I am sorry for that as well.  With the entirety of vibrating creation, including the beautiful being that I can describe myself as, I still feel sorrow and sorry and shame.

If I could ask anything of you God, in whatever incarnation you are, it would be to help me alleviate this shame and sorrow so that I can clearly love and understand.  I see that I should love and that I want to love but the rope bridge is cut and dangling and I don’t know how to reattach it.  I might need help with that.

Above all things, I am truly thankful that I can feel.  I do as much of that as I know how and I’m always learning more.  This is a gift and I cherish it.  I actively fight that desire to quell feeling, to be automated and callous and I might need a little help with that battle too.

I’m trying and doing and ever grateful,


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