John Saward – September 30, 2014 at 12:04PM

Today’s Beginning: The Killing

Each morning for seventeen long years he had woken up with the thought, “I may as well kill myself”.

He had trained himself to ignore the pain and the thought and move his body off the bed and prepare some coffee to convince himself that another day could be proceeded into. He would not do it. He could not make the killing. It was just not in him to do what his own brain demanded. He may as well have the thought of beating a star nebula into submission. The killing of himself was an impossible notion. Nobody else was turning up to do it for him, either.

God knows he had tried. There was the standing on the train line waiting for the intercity express that was cancelled that day. There was the jumping off the roof of the apartment block and landing on the balcony of the top floor apartment and recovery from a broken leg. There were the pills swallowed that had on their label, “Excessive consumption can be fatal, consult your doctor if symptoms persist”, and the waking up in Emergency with a young intern saying “Don’t worry, you just passed out from the stress”. There was the holding of breath under water, eating of a mountain of fatty food, the giving of finger to that run of bikies who just laughed uproariously as they screeched by, the hitting up on that girl in the pub dispensing heroin and cocaine from her handbag, there were the nights fully unconscious in the rain, the running with the bulls in Barcelona, the skydiving in Arizona and the collecting of snake eggs in spring in the outback beyond lake Eyre.

Nothing had arisen from any overt or covert attempt to dispense with himself other that the growing realisation that Something Would Not Allow Him To Be Killed.

He went to the local priest. Father George. “Father holiness,” he began, having not been in church for quite a time, “I fear I have sinned and regardless I know I am not worthy of this life. I confess I have asked the Good Lord to take me into the afterlife many many times. I never receive an answer to my prayer and as you can see I am still here. Father why does God hate me so much that he demands I still be here?”

Father George nodded kindly and then said, “Son, you are not hated and God does not see your sins for longer than a sparrow takes a deep breath. All is forgone and forgiven. God loves you just as you are. Please try to find a way to love yourself like that too. The church is here to assist you in that. We don’t expect penance and we don’t expect you to harbour any particular beliefs about theology or The Way. Those days of mistaken arrogance of the Church are long gone. All we want is for you to see your own eternal magnificence and delight in sharing with others in compassion along the way. Can you enter into that further with me today?”

… TBC.


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John Saward – September 30, 2014 at 09:58AM

One of the reasons I found my soul is because I had so much depression in my life.

The depression motivated me to take risks with my life that perhaps would not have been inclined to take if I were relatively content with my feelings and situations.

I had to find my way through my own pain by entering into many many experiences and intimacy with many lovers.

Those experiences and lovers paradoxically guided me to discover my soul beyond experience and intimacy.


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