She wanted to eat her breakfast.
I dont know why, but I allowed myself to buy into the lie again, "she doesnt love you, dude."
We spent the day feeling really tense and all I wanted to do was run away from my "fraudulent" life. After a while, I started feeling really cagey and anxious. I kept asking her questions and not believing the answers. Hour after hour things got worse, until, exhausted, I simply fell asleep. She did too, after crying a lot.
When I awoke, she was looking at me, trying to reach out to me. Eventually, I told her this story:
A few years ago, i went to a healing Mass at a NH church. Like many of the movies my friends recommend or take me to, I didnt know much, just that "it would be cool."
The Mass started typically... several parishoners dotted the large church. I remember a very poignant sermon. At the end of the Mass, the priest announced that their would be a healing ceremony, and we could all stay if we liked.
Since I was invited, I remained seated, and carefully watched the expressions of the people leaving. Their faces didnt reveal anything; i was hoping to get a glimpse of what might happen from a few "former customers." oh well
The priest began to speak again and outlined what would happen. Parishoners would return to the altar, as in the communion ceremoney. He would pray over each parishioner, and they would become filled with the Spirit. Some may need to lie down. Some may fall. They'd be 'catchers' on stand-by, to prevent injury.
I joined the penguin-walkers in the line of 20 ppl headed to the altar. Some people were already glowing - an expression I remembered well from my altar boy days in the 70's. There used to be this lady - she always lifted up her arms during prayer - and she'd sing the loudest and tears would be streaming down her face. I only intellectually understood that she was filled with something special, but I never really 'got it'. She always had a glowing expression, too.
At first, I couldnt see a thing, which was unusual for a Communion line. Not wanting to crane my neck out like a friggin tourist, I simply inched forward, and waited to inch forward again.
After what seemed like way too long, I realized that I was just three people away from the priest, and I saw what was happening. Actually, there were several lines to the altar, and he was running from one to the next praying over people. They were dropping into peoples arms. Some were ... vibrating, is the only way i can describe it.
I was next.
He moved close to me, and dipped his fingers in oil blessed by something or someone connected with St. Jude. ( sorry, that's all i can remember).
"Do you believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, your one and true savior?"
Now was the time for a decision. I'd been ambivalent about the whole Jesus thing. The diddling little boys scandal was just beginning to break, and my faith in the Church was also. But, this was not the time to examine multiple angles of things.
"yes," I said, quickly.
"Do you renounce Satan and all his works?"
"Yes" again, quickly.
"Do you....." I dont really remember exactly what happened next, but that sounds much more dramatic that what actually happened. What actually happened was that he asked me a few more questions and prayed over me, and I swear, I felt electric and warm all over.
Then whooosh, it filled me and yeah, it really did make sense to let someone catch me. The priest looked at me and said, "Just let it wash over you." and so i did.
Later, he asked me to return to the parish to meet with him in private. All red flags went up, but I resisted the impulse to shit on what had just happened.
The next weekend, we sat in his office, going over the points of my life and discussing areas about my religion that confused me. Then he asked if I wanted to address these deeper issues. We began a healing process that lifted things out of me. It truly did feel like 'healing' in that I was being spiritually repaired.
He gave me a blessed medal (St. Christopher?) which I immediately put around my neck. That night, as I tried to lay sleeping, it felt like the medal was burning me. I felt very claustrophobic and anxious. It was very strange and unsettling. It was like Evil was PISSED over what I had done, and was fighting back for my soul.
The summer sun set in to black, and, like a little boy afraid of what's in the closet, I kept my eyes shut tight. I was too afraid to open them and see the owners of the whispers that were just beyond hearing.
Creepy, right?
Over the next few weeks and months, my dedication to my new-found spirituality waned, then dissapeared. I joined a church group, only to find a bunch of guys whining about life. I told my friends, who compared my experiences to a Seinfeld episode (http://www.seinfeldscripts.com/TheConversion.htm) or simply tried their best to be polite.
Without any reinforcement, my experience faded into memory.
I knew what was happening. Evil won. I didnt DO anything. Whatever gift I was given to share a connection with others and the Supreme, was lost. But, I didnt feel the struggle between forces anymore, either. And that presented it's own kind of relief.
Today, I felt the struggle again. Evil does not want me to evolve. Or, maybe there's another way to look at it: Cohen says that "Ego is an anti-evolutionary force of powerful inertia in human nature—attached to the past, terrified of change, and seeking only to preserve the status quo." http://www.andrewcohen.org/teachings/ego.asp
As I reflect on my self-righteous behavior with my wife, and my healing experience, I know what I have to do.
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