Dear God, I don’t offer myself to you yet, to do with me as thou wilt.
I must purge first. And this must be a conversation between you and me only. Promise? And will you help me stick to it please?
This is the thing. I have a conversation with god/GUG (or at least I start out that way) and then god/GUG kind of takes over as it were and seems to write in tandem with me. And then I get this uncontrollable urge to publish this thing we wrote together. The urge starts out motivated by pure light and goodness (well mostly) but as I begin to edit and format and add images and research puffy ski suits, it gets all messed up and the thought drops from the lotus to the mud, and I think it must be perfect and that it might launch my career (I know, ha ha) and that it’s the bees knees, if only it could just be fixed here and there, and I just begin to slog and slog away at it, scratching and scratching at the surface and erasing this and re-writing that, and before you know it, even though I had good intentions, when I first had the idea, to quickly hit “publish” then clean the whole house (for real, husband, for real!), there’s no lotus left, and all there is is mud, and I find myself sitting there staring at my screen like the last remaining brains-crazed zombie after the post-apocalyptic zombie apocalypse. If I do hit publish (and I’m not talking about posts like the one yesterday, about Eckhart, which happened because YouTube suggested Evan Carmichael’s “10 rules” video to me while I was desperately trolling YouTube at lunchtime looking for pirated episodes of Real Housewives of New York to consume with my (two-)day-old pizza, no. Those are easy-breezy hour-long affairs from start to finish, plus a bit of editing for clarity here and there. I’m rather talking about the pants-on-the-line type posts; the ones that I started out writing for myself but then decided to send into the world), I suffer extreme energy withdrawal, from all that screen-staring and brain-drain, and from the fact that somewhere along the way, god/GUG/oက has gone missing from it all. I then crave REACTION and FEEDBACK and LIKES and LOVE and RECOGNITION and yet I can’t get enough, because the hole in my soul is god-sized and unfillable with anything except God itself, and I’m looking in all the wrong places. So it only gets wider and wider or denser and denser, and more and more gravitational (you know where I’m going with this, right?) the more I seek brain-food and screen-dreams and it’s like a black hole into which everything disappears and gets sucked in and never is enough. Never is enough. And the next morning I finally ask God for help and my zombie-apocalyptic metaphysical brain explodes onto the page in a light-filled big-bang-type theory, and I start again.
Or that’s what it seems like to me. Ever have that feeling? If not, you should try it some time. It’s really cool and everyone’s doing it.