Summer Church

Well, God, I’m sorry I’m not making it to church today. I’ve said I’m more of a winter Christian church goer than a summer Christian church goer. Even Constantine worshipped the sun and he lived in Italy.

I woke up in time. I really considered it.  The trouble is I was way laid by Facebook.  Instead of getting together with friends and worshipping, praising and singing hymns I got on the old Facebook saws of the Gun Debate, why Criminals have guns and get away with it while law abiding citizens are taxed and shamed for owning guns.  That ties in with why good girls like bad boys and why Prime Minister Trudeau has walls and guns and vacations and  parties. Why are Prime Minister ‘Stoner’  Trudeau and his wife ‘Swinger’ Sophie surrounded by guns and walls but I’m supposed to trust my government?.

I’ve got serious concerns about government despite Jesus saying ‘give until Caesar what is Caesar’s due’ and ‘Forgive them for they know not what they do.” Jesus Christ was God incarnate. The government killed God Incarnate.  My dealing with government even recently is that they simply can’t recognize lies. They reward criminals. That’s been my experience.  They have SWAT TEAMS waiting to catch jaywalkers while terrorists are paid millions for killing friends.

I’m sitting here feeling ‘self righteous’ . But I’m not  in church.  

It’s too late to get showered and dressed. I’m here in this really comfortable sleep wear, in my home, with my dog, on my couch. I haven’t had my second cup of coffee yet. It looks like it may rain so I don’t want to take my motorcycle with Gilbert on the back. 

I was out yesterday. I did a good deed and made what amounted to a country house call, did some storage locker cleaning, drove for 4 hours. Now I don’t want to ‘rush’. I want to be off the clock. Tomorrow I’ll be harried and rushing and apologizing for being late with always an hour and a half task to be done in 50 minutes.  Here I could be in church today aiding my peace of mind.  I could be smiling with friends and singing praise.  Unstead I’m on my couch. I love my couch.  

I finished reading Susan Juby’s Nice Recovery, hilarious and poignant memoir with lots of good recovery information, all round enjoyable read.  She’s amazing. 

I started a western. I’m going to read the western today. I wanted to sit outside on the lawn chair. It’s not sunny. Gilbert’s napping. We’ll go for a walk. I have a work task I can do on the computer. I have some outstanding housekeeping things like completing the India visa application.

I’m feeling lazy and slothful. Some day I’ll wonder why I didn’t live my life,   didn’t jump out of a plane, have a sex change, find a cure for cancer or climb Mount Everest. I was on Facebook arguing politics instead.  I’ll be feeling guilty about this ‘wasted’ day on the couch when I could be hustling. Martha and Mary.  Down time.  I’m always doing ‘down time’.  I like napping as much as Gilbert does.  The pressure to do, will be on soon enough. This is a lull in the war.  Winter is an ongoing fight against the depression of rain,  snow.  darkness and gloom.    I’m off the clock.

I have this goal to write a book. I could work on one of the three I’ve envisioned. The non fiction addiction book needs me to be sitting in a medical library or at least having a bunch of books around. If I cleaned up my table I might be able to move on that task. I’m cluttered to death. Thankful. 

It would be easier as a transvestite to be able to just walk outside in the ambivalent night clothing I like wearing inside.  I’m covered.  I don’t  look ridiculous. It’s no different that those ancient years I smoked dope and lived in a housecoat on a weekend.  I totally relate to housecoat wearers. I’m in ambivalent  nightshirts.  I don’t want to get out of the gender neutral nightshirt to put on shorts and T-shirt.  I miss the summer sailing and life in a sarong.  Pants of any kind are associated with work.  Least so torn khaki boat shorts and southern trade winds. We’re strangled by clothes in the north in winter, bundled in parkas.

I’ve got a list of ‘to do ‘ things, like get another tattoo. Sit in hot tub, swim, walk dog, de clutter desk, shower, complete visa, do on line CME, write book.  

I’m writing to keep up the habit. After doing the autobio task and realizing I’m still angry with government having ‘institutional resentments’ despite having done 4th steps and as a Christian praying to forgive my enemies, bureaurcrats who have abused their powers and are corrupted deceitful parasites.  I’m still dealing with my fear of aging and fears of future. I want to be sailing across the Atlantic or down to the Caribbean. Whatever I’m doing I seem to be wondering if I shouldn’t be doing something else. I seem to be marking time, coasting.  There’s only an up and down elevator. I ‘m still in up mode but slow speed. I meditated and did some exercise this morning.  I’m here preparing to go in a camper to the Salt Spring Round Up and after that to the opening bow hunt. Life is good. I’m doing okay. I fear I’ll mess it up. I’m not good without a white knight mission.  

I’m kind of hiding in my home. It’s where my stuff is and I’m less likely to have someone run me over or shout at me. I’m having a down day, anxious, agoraphobic. Battery charging. Too much with the world.  

I could have gone to church.  Church is good. Instead I’m here God.  Well.  

Thank you God for all your blessings. Help me do thy will. Help me be positive. Help me have more faith and help me be less judgemental. Let an atttitude of gratitude despell all the darkness.  Remove the barnacles from the bottom of my boat since the sludge I’ve gathered has slowed down my progress to you.  Hallelujah.  Lord Jesus Christ. Hallelujah.  

Ps: This inspired me to shower and shave and change to shorts and T-shirt. I walked Gilbert. Sort of pre rain day. Grey.  Reminds me of the days I was at anchor in northern harbours, sitting inside my boat, reading and drinking coffee while the rain came down on the deck and water around.  A ‘turn down’ day.