The inversion has lifted, and we have clear blue skies. I went outside barefoot, ignoring the cold, looked up at the sky and breathed. Glorious. I just wish my mind would clear, and I could breathe freely in my mind.
I will go along for some months, shutting my mind to the things I don't want to hear, and then something will happen that forces me to pull my head out of the sand. Bishops exorcising the demons out of gays, every week another gay being fired by a Catholic institution while listening to our local Catholic radio station supporting extremely right wing politicians who don't want to extend unemployment benefits and praising Ugandan policy on gays. For a short time I'm able to focus on the beautiful spirituality, the Mass, on the Gospel message, on Jesus, on all humans at the table, and then doctrine squeezes it out. I feel I can't breathe deeply. Peace is replaced with anxiety, frustration, discord. It always happens. Then, in an effort to survive, I move away, distance myself. That's when I wonder if the only way I can save any spirituality is to walk away.
And that breaks my heart.
I look for spring when I can disappear in the orchard, dig in the garden, smell the earth. Then I'll find my peace again and be able to breathe inward, deeply. I always find myself looking to make peace with the church when winter comes, followed by feeling suffocated and in turmoil, and then looking for spring when I can find my peace and breath and spirituality outside. It's a cycle that repeats itself annually.
Blue skies give me hope.
