It is not about God


The air that I breathe. The moisture I am of. The light that surrounds me. The dark that surrounds me. The noise of others. The movement of others. The keyboard, the screen, the electronic sound of circuits working without me knowing how. The walls of this room, the ceiling and floor connected to the structure of our home in ways I can visualise but not recreate. The street outside this window, the streets beyond that, each one the living womb of others just like me. The trees between, the bushes and grass, all interwoven in a tapestry of life. The clouds above not yet broken by sun, the gloom of grey as another day dawns, the circuit of a circle of another new day birthed.

I am connected.

This talk of Trump and knees or not. This offence and offended on sides both righteous. This hot air of emotion that ultimately will cool. This flurry of flourish of indignation abounding. Where is the building-up and the respect in all this? Where is the respect sacred of each?

I am disconnected.

These twitter feeds and Facebook rants we all engorge. These immediate barbs we add without thought. These pullings down and pushings away.

I wish to be disconnected.

Sitting here this morning with GSHJ I love, no one you can see, nothing I can prove – I am connected to you whether I like it or not. I cannot disconnect. I cannot be alone. I can only choose whether to block up my ears and eyes. To pretend.

I am connected whether I want to be or not.

The air we all breathe gives me no choice in that. Nor the day and night we each daily suffer. Nor the noise of me in your life right now.  Imagine that!  I think myself disconnected – but I am in your life right now – my noise – my life – my thoughts – my soul.  And you the recipient.  And then me with another as you with me and another.

Is that not a privilege – a responsibility – a precious gift?

Do we really need to agree to define how this all is?  Do we need the noise of indignation and offence?  Do we need to play to a global or local audience and seek percentage points of self-lust?  Do we need to blow ourselves up at the expense of anyone at all?  For if there was no God to argue over we would find another. For we find another. We seek each other to destroy.

The careless slur. The malignant malice. The easy shot. The cheap shot. The anonymous shot. The two fingers jerked from in front of my screen as I drive by yours (and spit my bile at you for good measure). Why … ?

For I cannot be disconnected.  I can only be connected.

And your inflated ego is a cancer to mine. Your careless jibe is a dart to mine. Your passing by leaves a scent of disdain. Your passing is of dung left for me to wipe clean. It seems we cannot disagree at all.  Not without spraying acid to burn, poison to choke, bile to suffocate anyone who does not say what we think (we think right now).

I am connected to your trail of destruction. To your chosen way of “connecting”. To your careless bravado in front of your screen (large or small).

Know this …

I am not a bible-basher or a god-botherer. I do not wish you to choose one religion or another. One faith or another. I do not wish to convince you there is something “bigger than us”. For even that we seem to have corrupted to our own image of malice.

I desire only that you see me. No one else. Just me and nothing “bigger”. No ethereal reason wrapped in theology and debate. Just me sitting here on my own right now.

For you and I are connected. And you affect me as I affect you. Neither of us can disconnect.

So why not love me as I love you. Why not respect me as I respect you. Why not be kind while we agree to disagree. We are a species of difference for that is our strength. And if you wish me to be like you, then you weaken both of us and our children to come.

For me it is not about God.

It is about a sacred connection.

.

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3 thoughts on “It is not about God

  1. Pingback: “It is not about God” – an explanation | Just me being curious

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