go and make peace

It was difficult to get to church tonight.  The means I had - clothing, a car...  I didn't want to go.  I didn't desire the service, the anxiety, of what others may be thinking of me, or if they are uncomfortable... the announcement to come 'on time, and dressed appropriately.   The concrete modern slapped-together structure... I didn't want to go.  Even the Sacrament, the Eucharist... God is always with me.  Just put on the sock... put on the shoe... oh, the pants, of course.  The palm of my hand, warm, tinted reddish with circulating life so late in the day... such a tool, praiseworthy. 

It was a quiet battle, but praise be to God, I was listening...

I got what I needed... rushed, late.  But I went.  I got in the car and left.  30, 35, 45 miles per hour.   Church is there. I am here...  God is now.

I didn't attend Mass.  I got there late, and never entered...  I stayed in the parking lot, and called my mother.  We hadn't spoken in so long, though we see each other daily.  I wouldn't get out of the car... my heart was restless...  unresolved business, and hurriedness... want and need, desperation, normalized...

What could be done there was done.  A breath, and toward the church I went.  Across the dark and full parking lot I walked, slowly, yet decidedly, accepting what was.  Knowing and needing to and being. 

Entering the anteroom to the temple, I went to the restroom.  The ladies choir was siiingiing... I looked alright, nothing special.  I clear my eyes, making contact with who I pass by, smiling meekly, but honestly. 

This desperation to be inside, this pride... a cultural fear, of judgment, of hellfire, of pathetic-ness... what god would want that?..  A false, broken religion, that...  shuddering, trumpeted noise.  No, God wants us, all of us, here, together, just As We Are... Mass, or no Mass. 

I continue back toward the door I came in from, walking calmly.  The blood bank woman pleading 'save two babies!  ...Plaasma!.. safe THREE bay-biees!..'  The bulletin, and the paper... I take them as I exit, and walk outside, looking for some kind of appearance of church in this building.

The Steel-tube statue of St Michael, welded, on a baby-blue tile-shard background, with his big metal-wire wings, almost like it was inserted, or placed here from another place, and it's missing from it's previous location.  The white crime light a compliment by the small side exit, in contrast to the utter utility of the structure.  This spot, outside... this seems better.  Here, I read the bulletin announcements and, as Mass ends and the expectant to leave couple pushing their backs against the side door exit, like greyhounds ready to run... well, as those in attendance begin to flow out, I too consider doing the same.  Sauntering back to my vehicle, walking again, slow, but decidedly, if slow, I hear blood-lady again seeming to cry, pleading for the baybeese..  Now, I'm in this body undeniably, then.  I get in the car, letting the couple in the whimsical little european car I parked next to go before me.  How that tall man fit in that, who knows? 

Now, onward toward, if not directly to, home.  My house... whatever it holds tonight, whenever I get there.

I don't stop the car, but leave it idling a moment.  It rolls through the neighborhood at idle speed a while more, taking in the neighborhood, the windows down.  The smells, the sounds... locked and open doors, garages, lights on, and off...

This, is what I want to do.

-XV Feb 20 2011
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FEBRUARY...

FEBRUARY... 
What does this month mean? 
What is February, beyond and beneath this slick and thick glossy veneer
of commerce glamorizing emotionally pleasing dependency and fear of
loss? Buy diamonds! Buy roses! Buy satin & lace, and chocolates &
champagne! Some R&B, and potpourri... One would think it began
sometime mid-January. 
Where and what, is this month - 
February?