SHEKINA

Wind,
strong and fierce,
the Breath of God.
Hear His voice cry out,
the wind in the trees.
Hear it crying,
sighing,
moaning in the trees.
Walk His trails.
Feel the strength of
His arms
the mountains.
Rest secure,
braced by cool,
fresh air.
Smell the breath of God,
soil, grass, pines.
Hear the song,
the shrill,
piercing,
cry of the hawk
the song of creation's praise,
rising with the winds,
soaring with the hawk,
the clouds joining
Nature's Song of Praise.
Join with her,
be one with Her.
One with God.

In like a, a, a GOOD thing, out like a, a, a BAD thing.

Over the past couple of months, this space has been generally reserved for my musings on spirituality, with only one side trip into frustration.

I've been relating to this space as a diary, or journal, but one that I willingly shared with any who wished to read. I've tried to open my soul to any who might be interested.

Today, that soul is darkened, saddened. I originally decided not to post today because of my inner gloom... But what good is a journal if it's not a reflection of who I am. Hard to open a window to my soul and then shutter it.

Gloom. Darkness. Despair. Well, gloom and darkness, anyhow. I'm not yet feeling the despair. Who knows? That may come.

This week started off well enough. In fact through yesterday evening, it was progressing along quite nicely. Then we hit the wall.

Well, let me back up just a little. This isn't quite true. The air got turbulent Wednesday afternoon. Kind of like a medium sized pothole on an otherwise smooth road. My visit with my doctor went well enough, and I'm healthy enough, overall, no really bad news. However, he did leave me with the knowledge that if I continue to experience certain symptoms, I may have to have a relatively small surgical procedure on my heart.

This didn't really bother me too much. It's really nothing overly serious, and I'm relatively confident that my medicine will take care of things. But it did make me think a little.

Then, that wall of last night. I got home, and there was a phone message from mom, asking that I call, wanting to know what I'd learned at the doctor's office the night before.

So, I called. Mom's response wasn't quite what I'd expected, a lot calmer than expected. She asked when she'd see me again, and I started to arrange our newly established "Tuesday Night Dinner". She interrupted me and said "Well, I can't keep this up any longer."

She then proceeded to tell me about HER visit to the doctor on Wednesday. She's been diagnosed with "Squamous Cell Carcinoma". Upon reading up on this on the internet, I discover that it is an "aggressively malignant" form of skin cancer that can easily metastasize to inner organs and can be fatal. I also learned that it is relatively easy to treat.

Well, I was okay with this news. Sorry for my dad, whom I know is suffering from this news. Sorry for mom, because, along with her Alzheimer's this is the last thing she needs to have to worry about. But, I felt calm, at peace, knowing that this, too, is in God's hands.

Then, I got to work this morning. Shortly after arriving, and going through my office email, I checked my personal email.

My friend, David, is pastor of a church in Mexico. His partner, Alberto, who suffers from epilepsy, was admitted to the hospital in serious condition earlier this week. This morning's emails informed me that this marvelous young man died yesterday from, presumably, complications from the pneumonia, which in turn was the result of the epilepsy.

And now, I'm feeling gloomy and in a rather dark mood. But, I don't despair. I'm not mouthing platitudes (or, rather, typing them) I'm sincerely not feeling despair over either my mother's cancer OR David's loss of his partner. I do, however, feel remarkably sad. Sad for David. Sad for the loss of Alberto. Sad for my dad. Sad for Mom. Sad for me.

For me it's not a matter of "Life isn't fair," as a very dear friend mentioned. Life ISN'T fair. That's a fact of life. I don't expect anything in life to be fair. I'd be shocked if it were! It's really a matter of dawning awareness. Life isn't only not fair, life is a terminal illness. In the death of a friend, the life threatening condition of my mother, I see my own impermanence. The end of the road is ahead of me. It might be around the corner, or it may be many miles yet. But it's there, and for a fleeting moment, that realization has been crystallized in my consciousness.

Good start, lousy end to this week. And that's the way of life.

Wanna Dance?

Aurelius (he of snorting fame) used to refer to Liturgy as dance. Nothing should interfere with the Liturgical Dance, he held. Effort must be taken to minimize unnecessary movement. For several years after I left, I strove to encourage this attitude in the church I attend. Finally, I came to realize that we are not a liturgical community. So what if our liturgical dance resembles more a free-for-all than a finely choreographed music hall piece!

Liturgy isn't all that's a dance.

Prayer this morning was going along quite nicely, thank you, until I uttered a phrase that made me stop and think.

"I don't want to dance anymore."

What the hell did that mean, I wondered. Which dance was I tired of?

It's the dance that I do with the Spirit. It's my entire relationship with that Divine Other that has come to be embodied by dance. The movements are finely choreographed. Some cosmic Choreographer has set before me a set of pre-determined steps the flow of which leads inexorably to... Well, that's the problem, what does it lead to.

Ever been to a gay bar, recently? Or watched scenes from Queer as Folk? You know the dance there? Those dances, too, are finely choreographed... though never taught. The rhythm of the music itself teaches the participants the steps; the bodies flow and undulate to the mystic, primal beat.

That music, that dance, as often as not is foreplay. It heats the blood, drives the heart, exercises that part of our mind responsible for the flow of testosterone... I digress.

The spiritual dance of my spirit with The Spirit is like that... It flows to the mysterious beat of the love song sung by that Divine Other. And I want out. Out of the dance.

I want into the bed. I’m tired of the foreplay, I want to immerse myself in that beat, feel the spiritual blood surge against me, hear the pounding of the Other Heart. I want to engage fully in the undulating, primal surge of Spirit love.

"No," my Partner whispers. "You don’t get it."

And it dawns on me.

The dance... It IS the bed.
The dance... It ISN'T foreplay.
The dance... It IS the flow of the love song sung since the dawn of time, coursing through my veins, drawing me to that center place. That Center Place. It’s the beat, that spiritual blood surging, the Other Heart pounding against me. That Other Love entering me, taking me, possessing me... filling me.

The Dance is Life.
The Dance is Unity with Other.

Now is.

Then can’t be until I see it, feel it, sense it, know it as Now.

I need a cigarette.

Rated.... X?

This week seems to be off to a much better start. Except, this morning, the coffee machine was broken. That's a bad thing... got the jitters! But, it's fixed, so all's well, that ends well!

I just posted a facetious response to another blog. The question was posed "If Jesus was shopping at Amazon.com, what would he buy ('WWJB')" My response was that he'd most certainly buy "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" and "The Gay Man's Kama Sutra."

Okay, maybe he wouldn't buy the "Gay Man's Kama Sutra", but I bet he'd buy some edition of the Kama Sutra.

Some years ago, I became interested in the relationship between spirituality and sexuality. Our society has retained such an odd mix of the old Puritanical revulsion for the latter. Sex sells everything these days, and yet, as a society [America] we have completely divorced it from our view of humanity.

We tend to think of the elements of personal well-being, for example, as being "Emotional", "Mental", "Physical", "Spiritual"... and the like. Seldom do we read a list of human attributes that stipulates the Sexual nature. If we do consider the sexual, we think of it as part of the Physical. I think that's invalid. (Oh, and by the way, I am quite aware that when I speak of "we" in this regard, there are many who ARE aware of the sexual.)

My first realization of this elemental part of my being didn't come to my until well into my life. In fact, it's really only started developing in the past 3 years or so.

But it really hit home one sunny, lazy Saturday afternoon. I had a spiritual experience. My partner and I were engage in slowly, passionately making love when I became aware of that Divine Other present with us. I knew Love at that moment.

I've frequently experienced that Other's Love and presence in the ensuing years.

We are not merely physical or spiritual beings... we are sexual beings, and our sexuality is given us to celebrate our life. Rather than hiding from this, we need to embrace our sexuality. I don't mean promiscuity, though I don't judge that, either. We need to live true to ourselves, physically, emotionally... sexually.

In the beginning, God created... and saw that it was good. It wasn't humanity's nakedness that created the rift. It was humanity's turning from God and allowing externals to come between themselves and God... between humanity and Creation.

!Snort!

So. There!