sacred (a statement of belief)

"Into the thump of the now with the juice of the yes dripping off the chin of the yum." - Mark Morford

"My point is, when I gasp "oh God, oh God" during sex, I'm not kidding." - The Pervocracy

"How is it different with me?", he asked, which is something almost no one asks. I had told him that I tend to see life through the lenses of relationships, of the important people in my life. This particular relationship was a poorly-conceived and terribly executed bit of (not-at-all harmless) fun. My answer sounds almost silly, looking back, but it was very true.

"I notice the sky," I said.

We were explicitly temporary. No pretense about the possible future, no room for that. We were a series of beautiful, transient moments, nothing more. A lovely storm cloud of a relationship.

(I know it really seems like this post is going to be all about sex, but I promise it isn't.)



He taught me more about mindfulness and impermanence than years of reading and (semi-regular) meditation and discussions. And even though the situation was generally pretty fucked, and I seriously doubt he associates me, years later, with any sort of philosophical breakthrough, I will probably always be somewhat grateful for that.

One of my favorite online yoga teachers says, many times throughout a sequence, "Re-establish your connection." To the earth, to your breathing, to your heartbeat. To your intention, your shoulders, your center. Awareness, like produce, cannot be purchased too far in advance. It is an investment in moments, in immediacy.

Pantheism, for me, is a statement of faith in those connections, in the value of mindfulness. But it's only a meal plan. The overarching paradigm does not necessarily stoke the fires of awareness any more than a shopping list makes a salad.

I named this year Courage, and thought perhaps things might be easier for that, forgetting that change is more often slow erosion, waves pulling out bits of sand and replacing them with other bits. I neglected to understand how deeply I'd have to cling to that word, to pull myself into it and it into me and sit, (hands open or clenched?), and make the decision over and over again.

You still have to do the work. I still have to do the work. Every day, every hour, if I can, re-establish my connection. Breathe, feel, smile, reach.


"Stop whining.  It is all on loan.  Accept your life with cheerful affection.  The pantheistic response would be to fall in love.  Fall in love outward.  Fall in love with this moment, with this earth now." - Sharman Apt Russell

Acceptance. Affection. Love. Courage. Breathing. Re-establish your connection.


I believe that moments are sacred. People. Words. History. Land. Art. I believe that the appropriate attitude with which I ought to view my life and myself and the world around me is one of reverence.

"The black rock is holy, or the scroll; or the pangolin is holy, the quetzal is holy, this tree, water, rock, stone, cow, cross, or mountain and it's all true." - Annie Dillard

It's all true.

Sunsets are sacred, and really good wine. (Or even, if I'm to be honest, halfway-decent wine.) Food shared with family, simple moments of kindness shared with strangers. The moment, halfway through a new friend's tearful 3 A.M. confession, when you realize that she isn't a stranger anymore. Kneading dough by hand, being barefoot outside, laying cards and walking someone through a fear that is too big to explore alone. A smile shared across a circle in candlelight that tells you, yes, everyone else felt that, too. Gratitude. Finding the perfect bit of wisdom in the words of a dead author, and hoping that someday I might pass on the favor.

Courage.

It is all true, but these are the things that re-establish my connection. These are the things that foster my awareness, that pull me out or up or below and soften my shoulders. Oh, yeah, right. 


And if you find your connection through dance, or sex, or bourbon, or...

(trying to think of something that doesn't actually belong on my list, too)

...

...

... Doritos, then Doritos are sacred, too.

At its best, my relativism is underpinned by a gentle understanding, a desire to allow room for others' transcendent experience. (At its worst, it's merely cynical.) I endeavor to appreciate your points of connection, your foundation, the stakes that hold your consciousness firmly in the present moment in the face of all the bullshit that pulls us all away.

"Everything is interwoven, and the web is holy." - Marcus Aurelius


I am re-affirming my commitment to courage for this year. I am renewing my quest for mindfulness. I am re-establishing my relationship with sunsets, and authentic moments, and breath.

And, right now, I am going to bed, because without a doubt, sleep is sacred as fuck.