You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘laziness’ tag.

So it’s about the Hebraic conversion of heart, shuv, the ongoing response to my sinfulness, as found in the Mosaic Law. Convinced that I am powerless to effect this existential change on my own, I rely upon the psalmist’s prayer, “Create, O God, a clean heart within me!” or simply, the mantra, ”Mercy!” together with working the Twelve Steps.

In my perception, however, the concept of sin appears forgotten or unimportant by many, from the global elite to street gangs to the politically and socially and academically prominent. Even spiritual leadership rots in its sanctuaries. Few to none participate in the world of the unconscious, source of dreams and spiritual direction. Instincts have a field day spinning subtle errors; recourse to head-language sets norms for what’s called moral behavior, until accepted in common practice.

Such unbridled insanity/sin leave the psyche’s doors wide open for the ravages of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse: war, famine, pestilence, and death. The media reports their galloping the high and low roads of our globe; they are everywhere. Chronic shuddering attests to their presence—No denial or substance abuse can assuage their terror. “Getting back to normal” seems illusory.

As bleak as this scenario appears, conversion of heart still works; its access requires rigorous honesty and humility and simplicity, within the context of prayerful solitude. We are not God and never have been.

It didn’t take long to empty closets, shelves, and drawers in my home—everything that I wasn’t using—after the news of my terminal illness and hospice’s sign-up in November 2019. Years of having served home care and hospice patents in their homes had kept my life uncluttered, but I still had more stuff than I imagined.

Emptying the glove compartment and trunk of my 1999 Toyota came next, before a church member bought it and drove it away, leaving behind the oil-streaked floor. No longer did garden tools and sacks of grass seed and fertilizer fill the walls and shelves; crumpled remains of spiders remained in the corner of the windowsill. Only the sixty-foot hose remained next to the overhead door. And last of all, my hand-written analyses of dreams in thirty loose-leaf binders were emptied, their contents bagged and destroyed.

The de-cluttering accomplished, a service offered to those who would clean up after me, I could began my end time, or so I thought. Yet, emptiness gaped back at me whenever a drawer or door opened—and more disturbing were dream stories with more stuff to clear out. There seemed no end to this psychic disorder.

A new discipline now informs my practice of CPA’s Twelve Steps. Only Higher Power can complete this ultimate de-cluttering, constituted by my own willful choices. And with this practice is a new sense of my humanness, a hard-won lesson, its significance still requires unpacking, one day at a time.

My mantra ever deepens: “Mercy!”

Available on Amazon

%d bloggers like this: