Acceptance

He said to me, “acceptance’,  I was complaining about back pain and aging. An X-ray showed a fractured spine from a distant plane crash.  Now I’ve pain as a reminder.  My doctor says I need to exercise, stretch and lose weight. 

Acceptance.

I am aging.  Yet this body is not me alone .  I’m 70 going on 17. I’m immortal in my mind. The whole talk of acceptance goes to the core of free will and determinism.  It underlies works and faith and mind and matter.  I have dedicated my life to change.  I have day in day out confronted denial of death and challenged the suicidal to live.  I am the salesman for life outside the halls of MAiD and Abortion clinics and Roe vs Wade.

I’m at the centre of the centre of the centre.

I have over and over again channeled God ,the healer to the resurrection of Lazarus. You win some you lose some. You get better with discipline and time. There is an art and a science. I am a child of God and as I believe I have been humbly at the centre of miracles.  I have known this sacred life as energy and live each day in wonder.  I am today, just for today, celebrating carpe dei, living as a voice over to a comic strip. I play my penny whistle and kettle drum.

The nature of time and motion are in flux as God. I discuss thy will or my will be done.  I am Zen. I am change and intransigence.  I am intention and outcome analysis.  I am the sinner and the arrow that hits the target. I’m forever asking that my will be thy will and thy will be mine that I would be one. 

And I saw ‘father why hast thou forsaken me’, this kazoo in the symphony of life.  My position is over run and I accept that I am afraid and overwhelmed alienated and demoralized. I struggle to buck up to go on. I’m here. I’ve remained feeling ever that I don’t belong.  

I live and die alone.  Ashes to ashes.  I don’t know whence I came though believe a creator and a mystery.  I accept the mystery and keen in the wee hours the loss of mother and love. I weary of the Promethean journey in the existential deserts of my soul.  All is vanity.  

Acceptance.

Pain is a dialogue.  Pain is anger turned inward.  Pain is immunology.  Pain is limitation.  Pain is.  I am tears splashing on a skiddle.

Do not go gentle into that still night, the alcoholic told his dying father, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Two frogs drowning in a jar of milk. I will churn my way to butter to climb out.  

Acceptance.  Yes, I accept Jesus Christ as my master and the divine as my nature and miracles and blessings. I am ever grateful even when I whine and stink and desperately try to avoid the hits in a fetal armadillo ball.

Bring it on. 

I surrender. I’m defeated. I accept.  Holy, holy, holy.  

Breathe.

The prison is of my own making. 

This too will pass.

All shall be well and all manner of things will be well.

Thank you God. 

We are Gods of God of God. Immortal. Transcendent. God of God.

Yes I was an egomaniac with an inferiority complex but you were a petty psychopath and called me manic when I called you liar but you were above this law of the land but not the Law. We fought and danced as Jacob. We laughed between time of dawn and dusk, sometimes day and sometimes night ,but never far from the knowing and unknowing.

As Leonard Cohen said, you were the sister of mercy and the KY jelly. I was Jesus Christ, my Lord.  I am he, blessed spirit I am he.  

The pain in my  back , this glad gethesame, is a pain in the ass and a pain in the head but mostly a pain in the heart.  I am so alone. I know I am not alone. But I feel alone. Alone, still knowing you are with me. Always. Your love, my love.