Saturday, June 11, 2005


Here on the lip of Saturday night, where the partying is near its end, I remember how good today was. The sweet fatigue. The hot shower. The 3:30pm Outback food. The night given over to the writing up the trip log. But most of all I remember the still, quiet voice of the priest who absolved me of my sins and I came out of the confessional unmarked, unblemished, like a saint. In the village of the clean-souled, ready to take up the saber again but remembering I must be more childlike and that includes telling God when I’m upset or mad or I think things aren’t working. Do I forget that he knows me better than I know myself? The key is to relax and tell him things. And he’ll take care of it because He’s much bigger than me.

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