Sunday, April 28, 2013

2013.04.28 Godde's a Flirt

I consider myself agnostic because I know I don't know God, yet I live in the paradox that the more I admit that I don't know, the more I seem to know.

Divinity, it seems, shoots shards of Soul into my flesh like an arrow and I feel suddenly intimate—and omniscient. And then it's gone, with a wink.

Just this morning I felt such a shard and called it passing hope. Twisting up the blinds in our bedroom window to catch the morning sunlight I was taken aback by the vision of our huge popcorn tree. (I call her that because of her Easter “bonnet”, though I don’t know her real name.)

Overnight, or so it seemed to my eye, the tree had popped. Every branch and sub-branch was loaded with blossom clusters, all pink-white. I thought of the first flowering of a young girl who sticks out her chest and feels, for a moment—omnipotent.  Or the small five year old boy in the playground whizzing along on his scooter his red cape blowing behind him—superman almighty.

The burst won’t last, any more than movie popcorn shared while life reels on —but it’s enough.

I hope such experience, in which I do hear, or feel, a word I call God-in-me, is not romantic or facile or sentimental, but rather true. Anyway, it helps me move along, knowing and not knowing.

Oh, incidentally, I'm beginning to despise the word spiritual—so bleak and easy, avoidant and limp— though I understand its vogue.