A Small Leap (From my ebook, “Lotus in the Mud”)

“I have made a quite small leap into seeing clearly that I am a terrible person.”

I recently made that as a comment on a Facebook Note I wrote. It bears repeating, but first I shall clear my throat: “I have made a quite small leap into seeing clearly that I am a terrible person.” There, I have said it in front of God and everybody. But I am in good company. If you worship at the Church of Leonard Cohen, you know that is a confession everyone should make. Sometimes with huge sorrow and at other times with a tiny twinkle in the eye.

For I have had it up to here with the guilt and shame that comes with being human. It is SO last week. I have been around the guilt and shame block many times. I have met all of you as I rounded the corners. Oh, yes, you. I know that we are all alike. Just mirrors for each other.

Now that I have made my confession, you are all giggling because you saw it long before I did. You saw me fall from grace again and again. And I saw you do the same. We are all in the same boat and it is leaking. Forget getting to the other shore. I would be happy to make out a dim outline of it.

Along with being a terrible person, there is the accuser of that person, which happens to be the same person—me. Oh, goodie. A two-fer! Yes, I wallow in my sins, desperately praying for a buyout or something. Someone to purchase my deliverance so I can get off the hook. Maybe that is what church is about. I dunno. Heck, maybe I should start “The Church of I Dunno.”

I was listening to the Comedy Channel today as I was driving home from the chiropractor. As I pull into the driveway, some wag says that the Pope is actually a drag queen. He was, of course, being silly, and I love silly. Silly takes my mind off the terrible person that I am. But I am not terrible for laughing at that joke. I am terrible because I am human. Simple and terrible as that. We have all fallen off the seesaw of the opposites. We are children on a planetary playground called Earth. Is it time for juice and cookies yet? Only a terrible person would ask that question. Can I talk you into giving me your share, too?

Vicki Woodyard