Remember Who You’re Not

       
       

       “You are not Rupert Murdoch,” The Cosmos said in a smug voice early this morning. “And you’re not Taylor Swift.”
       “Uh, come again?” I frowned, sleepy and irritated by this authoritative announcement. “Why would you stop by to point that out? Don’t you have anything better to do?”
       “Nope. Nothing better. And sometimes it’s important to remember who you aren’t.”

       It’s cold today. I smudge my forehead with ashes before I start the fire. My nobodiness is both indictment and exoneration. Burden and relief.

       Every evening, a host of witnesses comes home to roost in their insulated shed. As the light wanes, a plexiglass panel slides shut to protect them from the terrors of the night. Once in a while, one of the witnesses lollygags outside until after the door has closed, and she’s forced to spend the night awake, perched on the other side of safety, exposed to predators and the elements. She usually survives.

       Let us pause and consider what we’ve been taught about faith. In the tongues of angels, witches, pricks, and liars, from the mouths of shape shifters and reptiles, from the words of the prophets written on the railroad cars, the definition is disturbingly clear

       Faith without feeding the hungry is dead. Sacrifice without love is pointless. And believing that life should be free of suffering is tragically naïve.

       “We can’t make something true by believing as hard as we can, right?” I asked The Flock. 
       “Right,” The Cosmos answered. “You cannot. So be sure to believe only that which you know to be true.” 
       This made me laugh. And then cry.

       “Why don’t you show us where it hurts?” whispered the demons with eyes all aglow. “So we’ll know where to bite you.”
       “No,” I shook my head. “I’m not Rupert Murdoch. I have to take care of myself.”

8 thoughts on “Remember Who You’re Not”

1. Faith without feeding the hungry is dead. Sacrifice without love is pointless. And believing that life should be free of suffering is tragically naïve. Ah Rita, possibly my favorite of all your gorgeous bumper stickers. So glad to share this brief time knowing you. xoxoxo

   LikeLike

   1. Hey. You can only have 2 or 3 favorites per year. I love that phrases keep elbowing their way up Nancy’s Bumper Sticker Favorites List :). And I’m loving reading
      Padriag O’Tuama and am considering going to a retreat he’s sponsoring in NM in August…. xoxx

      LikeLike

      1. Oh yes, yes yes go go go. I worship his words his humility, his brilliance, his poetry, his true beating Irish heart. I

         LikeLiked by 1 person

      2. Ok, then. With that ringing endorsement, we have signed up…thanks. It’s all about connection.

         LikeLike

2. Just remember that you are not Padraig Ó Tuama. But you are clearly a poet!

   I believe you will enjoy each other’s company.

   LikeLiked by 1 person

3. But WAIT. I want to be Padraig O Tuama. Taylor and Rupert offer no temptations…but… Oh well. I’m glad you think we’ll enjoy connecting. Do you know him? And thanks for your comment.

   LikeLike

4. As one of my many incredible teachers once said, “Honey, be who you is”! It’s the one you know the best. You are a perfect you.

   I don’t know him personally, but I’ve come to love him (and you) through words… those delicious, dangerous and difficult tools we use to pretend to communicate with each other~ and ourselves.

   LikeLiked by 1 person

5. Ah, thanks! Delicious, dangerous, and difficult, indeed. But it isn’t really pretending. It’s just leaning into the Void, hoping that being willing and awake will keep us safe (it doesn’t, but hope springs eternal) and Who Knows?? Appreciate your comments and presence.

   LikeLiked by 1 person