Too Deep
for Words
Yes, beloveds, I have been ducking out on you. Frankly, I haven't
known how to say what's going on with me without sounding trite and stupid
and cliched. It was a miniature miracle, one of the more possible
but not very plentiful ones, as far as I know. Oh crap I am blowing
it already.
Well, anyway, the end of it is that I'll be going back to school.
That means I need a day job, because growing a business and going to school
are not very compatible, and I will need $$ to live on in the meantime,
even if I do strike it lovely in loans and grants with my 4.0 GPA.
*graceless boastful smile*
I have a Bachelors to finish up, which may take a short time or a long
one, depending on how much of my existing credit gets acknowledged by whatever
school I wind up choosing. I'd like to finish my geography degree,
since it's a field I happen to love and seems to go well with world religion,
but I don't see much in degree offerings in geography around here.
Which is very sad. There are so many good specialties in the discipline,
some of them very high tech and growing. All this GPS stuff came
from geography.
I was just in the bathroom, trying to clean up the litter debris that is
the wake of Narice the Tornado, who can't take a decent crap without flinging
litter from here to Tampa. I've had it. The cats are resuming
toilet training. I cannot stand the ammonia and the stink and the
mess any longer.
I was in there sweeping, and having adventures in my mind as I often do,
when doing mundane things. I was humming and singing stray bits of
tune, venturing over into the blues, and Old Black Man chastised me with
a gappy smile, asking me if I paid my dues. I looked at him steadily,
trying not to show too much, trying not to show too little. And then
I sang low and slow something like:
I was high
Oh lord I was so high
I was happy in his
love
And thought it would
never die
He came in my door
I sat down on the floor
He looked at me with
pain on his face
And said we caint be
lovers no more
He said we caint be
lovers no more
I fell down down down
I fell a thousand miles
And crashed hard on
the stony groun
He said I'm tired tired
tired of doin wrong
I got a wife and chilren
at home
And I'm tired of doin
wrong
Have I paid my dues?
Have I got a right
to sing the blues?
This was just the last
time
My heart was on the
line
And I fell down down
down
I fell a thousand miles
And crashed hard upooooon
the stony groun
We caint be lovers
no more
We caint be lovers
no more
The
notes rambled up and down and lingered, stretched out over silence and
back in again to close nurtured sorrow, as Old Black Man picked gently
at the guitar, I sat on my heel, one knee on the filthy floor, dustpan
in my hand, and one tear rolling down my face.
I am soooo tired of
doin wrong
I got a wife and chilren
at home
We caint be lovers
no more
The
good thing about these blues is that they can be put away again.
They are pain past, not pain in the present, but I know how it is, how
it was, and how it feels. And life beat me down far more than once.
I paid my dues, Old Black Man, you can be sure.
The push for education has to do with my calling. I think I was hearing
it in the first place but I wasn't sure until the fast. It's a call
to the ministry, but not your usual run of the mill ministry. I feel
I'm to be a UU community minister. It feels right, it feels very
right. But before that will be seminary, and before that will be
finishing up my degree. And so there you find me.
Don't expect me to get all holy on ya though, or any holier than I have
been up to now. I've always been a spiritual being, as well as a
profane one, heh. I am honest about what and who I am, and I think
I represent humanity well. I certainly know how it feels on many
planes, in many situations. I have the power of empathy, and my experiences
reinforce this. It is useful. Making good use of my motley
history would make it all worth it, now, wouldn't it?
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