Thank you, Rabbi Aaron Alexander

I had a brief but inspiring chat with a rabbi recently.

He asked me, "Are you a religious person?"

I wasn't exactly sure how to answer.  I don't quite want to say no.

"Well... I don't identify with any particular religion, exactly..."

"Let me ask you another way.  Do you practice religion, of your own kind, maybe, in the way that you live your life?"

He was telling me about how disappointed and saddened he is that people put so much emphasis on the labels of 'organized religion,' that there was so much importance placed in the minutia between one denomination and the next.  He lamented that so many people end up only feeling lost, unable to embrace even the semblance of their inherent spirituality because they don't feel comfortable with any prescribed vision.

He was there with me, helping me finish getting a dessert ready for service.  It was some kind of Jewish spiritual retreat for some 200 people, and the weekend they spent there was devoted to learning and prayer, all aspects of life guided by traditional Jewish faith.  Due to the strict nature of this group, about half of our kitchen was painstakingly converted into a working Kosher kitchen (with a separate "dairy" kitchen set up outside, as dairy- and non-dairy foods must be stored and handled separately).  He was there, with two of his students from the rabbinical school, to supervise this kitchen and ensure we adhere to the rules of Jewish law.  Every ingredient and method of preparation was closely inspected; every piece of equipment had to be specially prepared and kept in use in the Kosher area only.  During Shabbat, which takes place every weekend between sundown Friday to sundown Saturday, absolutely no cooking can be done whatsoever.  But, people still have to eat, which means everything for that time frame had to be prepared in advance.

And he, speaking freely from within these incredibly strict religious confines, told me he grieved that people don't realize that within them, each and every one, exists the path to "God."

Hello, old friend.

a hollow log

There is this sadness in me, hollowing me out.

A hole, a void-- an echoing reminder of my worthlessness, of my emptiness, my nonexistence.

I am worth nothing
because I AM nothing.

I exist in this physical shell, and it is a terrible one to be stuck in.

All I want is to shed this.  To let the skin cells and viscera rot away, let the bones fall into the earth, and be free of this pain.

gloaming

floating.... away.

simplicity is the greatest path to truth.

tonsillitis

Like, seriously?  Again? Or is it just always.
Is it that they never really healed, and this is just another flare up-- or that I DO get better, but they are so sore and irritated that they are all too susceptible to re-infection?
Or, being that tonsils are naturally the body's immune system dumping ground, is it simply that everything I come in contact with immediately ends up there first?

No matter the case, I am sick of it!

Is it the notable dive I've taken in my mental health that has inevitably affected my immune defense?

Am I making myself sick?

Is it so terrible that I want to go away a while...  That I have so strongly thought on the matter of checking myself in, letting someone else take care of me, just for a while.  Just to be alone.  Is it wrong to run away?

"There is so much shit in this life that it is a tragedy when a thing of beauty is struck down-- but if that beauty were to simply walk out of its own accord, it would be so much worse..."


But to be completely honest, what difference would it make?  Who would miss me?
I am a burden on my best of days.  A poison.
A disease.

a moment of weakness

I burned myself tonight.  This is a relatively new behavior.  It is somewhat worrisome.

I still have not been cutting.  The last time I did was October 3rd.  That's two full months.  That's something.

(for now)

the sad days, the bad days

They've come and gone, and it appears they are here to stay a while.

More will be said when I have the words.

For now I feel it only important to say:

It's true I have a long history of escapism and substance abuse.

I fuck up sometimes.  I make mistakes, fall back into bad habits.  But I try my damnedest to go on each day without it.

And it isn't fair to assume that I don't.