Visiting the confessional was a weekly ritual, at our catholic primary school. I rather enjoyed it at first, because at least I had someone’s undivided attention. I assumed he, (the priest), was carefully weighing the depths of my wrong doings. Of course, in those days, we would simply go down the list of ten commandments feeling pretty superior, cause there were at least 5 that were not applicable to a kid.
The list went like this:
Lying: well sure, after all, we were kids.
Cheating: though I never cheated on a test, I regularly cheated my brothers out of their fair share of dessert… and then lied about it
Honoring mother and father- well I frequently flunked this, as I was given to tantrums and willfulness…which, looking back, I feel served me, but that’s another story
Stealing was usually on my list because in sixth grade I had developed a serious sugar addiction, which successfully tempted me into stealing change from my brother’s drawer
well, you get the general idea… .
One day , I got curious about the penance given to each of us, and was astonished to find out that we were all given the exact same one. 3 Our Father’s/3 Hail Mary’s and 3 Glory Be’s
I felt utterly betrayed by the priest, who, I thought, should have known that little miss Marilyn was a naughty girl, and probably committed sins far worse than
most of us. In fact, I’m pretty sure she coveted something or someone! She certainly did a whole lot of kissing, and I mean the kind that engages the tongue!. How could her penance be in the same category as mine?
And that was the day I took matters into my own hands. I began increasing the extent of my sins in an attempt to catch a lazy priest, too worthless to pay attention. The first week- I lied over twenty times. Same penance. Second week- I stole more money, same penance. Third week- I confessed to not only yelling at my mother, but kicking her in the shin,…”3 Hail Mary’s 3 Our Father’s 3 Glory Be’s and please stop exaggerating.” So he was listening!
Well what has this got to do with anything?
Lesson learned: Pay attention to your own stuff, sins, joys, trials and tribulations. And judge not, lest ye be judged
Over the years ,confessions have become a big deal to me. Some call it “manning up” , either way, it helps us stay true to ourselves, as well as building trust that might have been broken.
And so it is in that vein that I,
confess to you, my subscribers that I was over zealous in stating that I would write two posts per week. No, this is not meant to be humorous, well, maybe a little. Remember the confession is as much for me as for you. The truth is I have failed in even writing one per week, but, thankfully, I believe in redemption and self forgiveness.
Please accept my apologies. And from this day on, I do promise to do my very best in writing one post per week.
I offer you this poem in gratitude for you patience and willingness to understand.
May the ground beneath your feet
catch you gently in her spongy laughter
and the sun’s rays shine truth upon your lips
May the spring rain wash the wounds of your past
And may each day bring forth a new blossoming of spirit
May the secret wooded paths call you by name
echoing her eternal heartbeat
May the ocean’s waves envelope your mind
awakening the endlessness of love
May the mountains beckon your voice
so as to be heard unto the heavens
and may the valleys be like sacred wombs
bringing back to you all that you have given