Uncategorized

I Can’t Put It Back

We got a Christmas tree last year. Up to that point, I had avoided having a tree by using a cloth tree that I sewed that hangs on the wall. After 6 years, the Kid finally convinced me that we needed like a tree tree and not something that I whipped up on my cheap sewing machine ten years ago so I found us a cheap one that has lights that flash in different patterns. You know the drill.

The problem with any Christmas tree is that they come in these tiny impossible boxes that hold the trees like magic and then it is impossible to put them in as they once were. It annoys me to no end when products that are supposed to go back in the box are basically impossible to put back in the box (here’s looking at you inflatable pools, sleeping bags, and mother-fucking Jenga).

I just don’t have the patience for it. So I purchased a Christmas tree bag that is probably three sizes too large for our Christmas tree so that we can basically just throw the whole tree in a bag and toss it in a corner of the attic. My life is too short to spend trying to squish some wire with tinsel attached back into a box that was packed by a magician.

I was reflecting on this particular attribute of my personality and realized that it applies to my deconstruction this year. Whatever turn of phrase you prefer- the cat is out of the bag, the horse has left the barn, you can’t unring that bell, my faith has been irrevocably altered over the past year and it just won’t fit back in the box again. In some ways, it feels almost more disorienting than before because I don’t know what to tell people or even how to feel. Our church has been meeting for a few months now and we haven’t gone. I love the people but I don’t know about church. How do I fit in there? How does it fit in with me?

Take that confusion and multiply it times a bajillion and that’s where I am with my faith.

As much as I’d like to say that faith deconstruction isn’t covered in the Bible and I’m forging my own path here, maybe it is covered in the Bible. New wineskins, anyone? The old ones are too tiny and old to fit this new and burgeoning sense of self and life and freedom that I’ve felt over the last year or so.

Don’t worry about me though. I’m not stressing too much about feeling unmoored. I don’t spend my days draped over a couch in existential crisis, okay, friends? Nothing feels like it fits, but there’s always mumus with large pockets. In fact, a ‘mumu with large pockets’ is exactly how I’d like to describe my current attitude towards faith stuff. No more jeans and a cute top or smocked Easter dress here. I’m braless in a pink mumu with large pockets and loving it.

While we’re on the topic, I stan Lil Nas X because I’m just so cool now, guys. Actually, I find his music cathartic, as he does a lot of thumbing his nose at the church who has rejected him (because of his sexuality). As an artist, he is creative and smart and deep. I came across his “Tales of Dominica” and the lyrics have actually resonated with me over the last several weeks. Aside from being a song that I like musically, I identify with “Oh, finally grown, ain’t nothing like I hoped it would be
Out on my own, I’m floating in an ocean-less sea”. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.

Tales of Dominica by Lil Nas X

Woke up on the floor
Oh, this plastic bed don’t blow up no more
In this broken home
Everyone becomes predictable

Oh, sometimes you’re angry
Sometimes you’re hurting
Sometimes you’re all alone
Sometimes I’m anxious
Sometimes it makes me
Feel like there’s only now

I’ve been living in my lowest, it’s safe to say
Hope my little bit of hope don’t fade away
I’ve been living on an island made from fate
Can’t go running back to home, I can’t face her face (oh)

Oh, finally grown, ain’t nothing like I hoped it would be
Out on my own, I’m floating in an ocean-less sea
Could I be wrong? Was everybody right about me?
Scary things in my head, I can’t dream and I just

Woke up on the floor
Oh, this plastic bed don’t blow up no more (oh)
In this broken home
Everyone becomes predictable

Oh, sometimes you’re angry
Sometimes you’re hurting
Sometimes you’re all alone
Sometimes I’m anxious
Sometimes it makes me
Feel like there’s only now

I’ve been living in my lowest, it’s safe to say
Hope my little bit of hope, don’t fade away
I’ve been living on an island made from fate
Can’t go running back to home, I can’t face her face

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s