Peace on Earth

26 December 2009

I hate Christmas. Well, I don’t hate it. I get closer to hating it every year, though. All that expense, meeting social expectations. All that stress meeting social expectations in time. All that guilt, spending time in the bosom of another person’s family instead of my own. All that frustration, wasting precious hours that could and should be spent doing something more worthwhile. All that hypocrisy of Gestapo chariteers.

Peace is never far from my thoughts, especially at this time. It’s a place I long for. The Peace of walking dreamily in an English Lane; of sharing a space with a dog that understands you; of feeling your place under a starry sky; of vamping out some pleasant chordy melody for nobody’s pleasure but your own. The Peace of fresh sheets. The Peace of the Mosque.

I am further from Peace than perhaps I have ever been. This year, I have consolidated my rejection of recent religion. In my life, I’ve been a Mason, a Muslim, a Mormon. Even an ordained priest in the latter (pun intended). Each step I have taken in the man-made structure of fake revelation has taken me further from myself.

Is anyone reading this? If so, I wish you what you wish for yourself. For me, it’s a return to the flickering hearth of honesty: whether by mazel tov or molotov.