Being Spiritual Makes You Batsh*t Crazy
A poem about the absurdity of the spiritual journey.
Have you ever wondered if your spiritual efforts amount to anything? I mean, is there really a point to any of it? I wonder the same thing almost every day. Which is why I’m inviting you into my psyche for a quick visit. I wouldn’t stay very long or things will get a bit weird. I hardly know you.
As long as you promise to get in and get out, I’ll open up the curtain to the inner workings of my mind. Think of it as a bizarre meetup group you wish you never went to. Warning: after reading this you might decide to stop the seeking and become a professional poker player.
Armed with my oracle cards, raincoat and reusable coffee mug, I begin to ascend my Mount Everest of UNWORTHINESS.
Halfway up, I stumble, twisting my ankle (AGAIN, DAMMIT!) on a DADDY ISSUES rock.
I keep going, because with a spiritual quest you NEVER GIVE UP. Besides the swelling isn’t too noticeable. It merely resembles a loaf of bread in my sock.
Fast forward (because this is already boring): sun warms my face. The path is lined with daisies and lush grass. I’m moving at a comfortable pace, feeling pretty good when suddenly, the ground drops away. I manage to grasp at the rock face as I skid down the mountain. But I’m hanging by my fingernails.
The famous white knuckle.
“Um, Universe, a little help?”
“Just let go!” he yells down from the top.
Really? Well, I guess I could give it a little trust and faith and all that. Here goes.
I LET GO.
Plummeting towards the earth at breakneck speed, I’m full on panicking.
“Build your wings on the way down? Who the fuck thought of that plan?!”
Just as my nose is about to hit the ground, a majestic flying horse gallantly swoops me up. We ascend into the heavens once again.
Ahhh…God is great. I feel so alive! What a beautiful view up here.
ALL IS WELL.
I feel at ONE with everything, especially with this magical Pegasus! I feel so much love and I could kiss everyone, EVEN the jerk who cut me off last week. My heart is as warm and fuzzy as a box of kittens.
I’m too drunk on love to notice that my winged specimen of grace has tipped forward. He drops me from a height of impossible feet into a predator infested jungle.
Umpf! I hit the ground, flattened.
“Thanks for the ride, four-legged one!” I squeak. He’s gone. Rude.
Lying on my back I think, I could really go for a plate of fries right now. This spiritual shit makes me hungry.
After a few hours of shaking my fist at the powers that be, I gather myself up and step through the mud, past snakes and unidentifiable deadly creatures. Eventually, I come upon a Rabbit. Peter Rabbit, I assume.
I feel a kinship and begin to tell him my problems. After a considerable amount of ranting and processing, I fall silent. I look at Peter Rabbit with anticipation. His wisdom oozes off him. He’s definitely an old soul. He blinks at me and hops away.
Ok, Snow White, I’m not.
A couple of miles and a bad case of poison ivy later, I come upon a cottage. This is it! Just like in The Shack! I’m saved.
I go inside and a lovely woman with long red hair greets me. She gestures to the chair by the fire and hands me a mug of tea. Smiling, she says, “You need to practice being grateful, my child.” She is about 35 years old and I’m middle aged. Awkward.
“Mother… er … can I call you that? I assure you I’m very grateful for my life. Like the time I fell from the summit of Mount Everest, being thrown to the ground by a giant winged horse and crawling through poison ivy with low blood sugar. I am eternally grateful for these miraculous expansions and lessons. But when does it start to get GOOD?”
“It’s all in the way you look at it. It’s either a failure or a learning. Everything is happening FOR you, not TO you.”
Hmm … so if I punched her in the mouth, it would be FOR her. I mull this over.
I fall asleep by the fire, with visions of violence dancing in my head. All through the night not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse.
I wake up in my own bed, in my normal apartment, on a normal Tuesday at normal o’clock. Had it all been a dream? It couldn’t be! It was too real.
Then I remember I have a Chakra Reshaping appointment scheduled for ten! I throw on my yoga pants, pour my double latte and run out the door. Today is a good day and I’m very grateful to be alive. Grateful mostly that my dream was just a dream AND thank goodness I don’t have poison ivy. That shit is terrible.