Post Vaca Blues
Today marks day 2 of the 1st 5 day work week in a long time. First there was my vacation to Alaska. I took the Friday before off, was gone for a week, and then there was labor day. The next week I took Friday off and the following Monday and Tuesday for Miami. So that makes it…. drumroll please… 5 weeks of not going to work every day. And now…sniffle sniffle… ok one more sniffle… it’s over. BAH! GAH! WAH! I am so OVER work.
Crappy day…hate job. It was literally miserable and painful. But then a church nearby was doing a Labyrinth Walk. Let me tell you, that’s the only thing that’s going to get me in a church these day. I dig it. We do it every now and then and I enjoy it every time. Basically, you just walk around on this diagram on the floor of a winding path. It loops in, then you get to the center, then you loop out. It’s like walking meditation.
Tonight, I asked Mary what she’s trying to tell me. I’ve realized lately that Mary (as in the Virgin Mary) has been speaking to me. Of course she is just a later version of Venus/Athena… whoever. The goddess. For one, I’ve been listening to Patty Griffin’s Mary from (what’s the name of that album…the live one… I don’t know.). Then I bought a book at the airport “Traveling with Pommegranites” by Sue Monk Kidd and her daughter…lovely lovely book. I always love books I get at the airport. Why? And she’s a a little obsessed with Mary. And then I think of the art I like.. .Now I’m not all artsy fartsy, but I took a lot of art history classes in college and became a fan of medieval and renaissance art. And if you’ve seen any of that, you know it’s pretty much all religious. And if you know me, I’m not. so my soul is hankering for religion? or the goddess? what?
On the labyrinth I started thinking about prayer. I wasn’t raised religious. My mom was raised Catholic (well, her mom was Catholic anyway…half Irish) and she’s always said she’s more “spiritual” than religious. My father was raised in Lutheran country (Minnesota) but was not raised religious. But when I was around 10, I started praying..something like “Dear God. Please protect my family because I love them very much. And protect me too.” That evolved over the years, eventually adding people and pets “up in heaven.” By the time I was 34, the list was rather long and frankly rather depressing. I DO want to remember the people and pets I loved and lost, but maybe remembering them every night was too much. At a certain point, I decided I was an atheist (recently). This had something to do wtih J reading a bunch of books and deciding he was an atheist. It seemed very bold to say “eff you” to all that. All the fairy tales and delusions. And I kind of got a kick out of saying “I’m an atheist” and watching people’s reactions.
But… maybe there’s more to the story. I like the idea of the divine. I believe in fate and synchronicity and purpose. I believe in signs. I believe I’m here for a reason. I even sort of know what that reason is. And so I’m looking to Mary, Venus, Athena, WHOEVER for courage and faith and perseverence and bravery and patience and whatever else it takes to make a difference in this world and be who I am meant to be.
So there’s that… and now I’m cooking a butternut squash to make some soup with and (ok I admit it) drinking a few cosmos cuz a shitty day is a shitty day, no matter how many epiphanies I have.
