Remember being a kid and grown-ups asking, "what do you want to be when you grow up?"
I always thought that was the dumbest-assed question
in the world.
What does a kid who's age is still in single digits know
(or care) about careers and job markets?
But when my age got to early double digits, I got it in my head that I wanted to be a Catholic Priest.
I mean, it made perfect sense. I was already an alter-boy, could recite the Mass in Latin and just loved the smell
of the incense.
That notion of becoming a Catholic Priest stayed with me for a few years until two things happened. . .
First, I discovered girls.
And second, I learned the definition of the word "celibate".
My hormonally charged, adolescent response was, "you've got to be f*#kin' kidding!!"
And so began my lifelong study of comparative religion. . .
(There just had to be a tradition where I could be a Holy Man and still get laid?)
painting of Augustine by Botticelli
Well yeah, there were plenty, of course, but none of them climbed the fléche and rang my bell.
Then by and by I discovered Buddhism; and I knew for sure I was no longer Catholic. (if I had ever really been a Catholic in the first place)
"God" was no longer some figment of my imagination living up in the clouds;
"God" was within. . .
As an adult, I've been blessed with two inspirational spiritual teachers; Paramahansa Yogananda and Joseph Campbell.
Enlightened by what I've learned from those two men, I took up Yoga and Meditation and the search for "Nirvanic Bliss" was on.
The trouble, as I discovered, is once you cross "the Rubicon" to Nirvanic bliss, you either couldn't or wouldn't want to come back. It's a one way trip!
I've come pretty damned close to the water's edge more than a few times in meditation but for one reason or another, (like a good Cuban cigar or a SuperBowl party or another pretty young woman coming along) I haven't climbed aboard the Mahayana to sail to the yonder shore.
All the same, one day during this incarnation, I know I'll put my earthly desires (Kama) down and make the
Nirvanic crossing.
But until I do, to keep my options open, I've adopted
St. Augustine's "Wayward Prayer". . .
"Lord make me pure. . .
. . .But not yet."
Monday, February 27, 2012
wayward prayer
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2 comments:
Whoa. We are more similar than you think, Art. Could that be nature, nurture, or a combination of both?
I too was an altar boy, loved the smell of that incense, and found out where the priests kept the wine... Never said I was lily pure. >;->
Arthur, your blog helps me get through the time between trips to KW. I am in town gathering background for my latest novel and am wondering if I could buy you a beverage and talk a bit? I can be reached at chuckballauthor@gmail.com.You can check out my bio at Amazon.com along with my novel "Mingo's Cave"
thanks,
Chuck
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