"Bless me Father for I have sinned!" All these years later I recall that idea and specific phrase that was being coached to my Catholic elementary school class by Father Hanley. I can't recall what age this particularly "teaching" was introduced (I do remember some of the "catechism" was being taught in Grade one, in order for the young initiates to be able to receive their "first communion.") But I was at the school for six school years altogether so hard to narrow it right down.
I wasn't "Catholic" so although they allowed me to attend the school (I suppose I'll never know their rationale at this point - could have been a "cash-grab" or perhaps they entertained that I would convert somewhere along the line) I was initially segregated from the class and not able to attend mass. Then I could sit in on the classes and go to the church - but I wasn't allowed to participate in any of the rituals. I could sing the songs - I remember in particular enjoying singing a rendition of "St. Francis' prayer ( a long standing connection ensued as it turned out).
My point is, that despite my non-affiliation that teaching was "impressed" on me anyway! Oh sure Father Hanley had a sense of humour - I remember in that class, which was preparatory for going to "confessional" he quipped, "Now I don't want to hear anyone saying - Bless me Daddy for I have goofed!" We (which is to say me) only saw the priest at these classes and church services, so not really frequently enough to form an opinion regarding his character. The power I endowed him with; what with his connection to GOD, went beyond my general anxiety with adults and consequently I gave him a wide berth.
That phrase came to mind as I pondered beginning this blog post. I have missed a couple days (in what not so long ago, I declared to be, "a daily commitment to write") Part of the "sticking point" of starting was just that - I have broken my commitment! To what, one might ask? I suppose that could be spun any number of different ways. Probably the only consideration that matters is what I'm making it mean?
I can't imagine that any one else cares if I write or not. I find it interesting that the "confessional petition" finds it's way to my conscious mind. Particularly given I'm not an absent Catholic - I never "practiced" at all. I was, at the same time, in attendance at Anglican (Catholic lite) Sunday school. I did my best to "zone out" on those occasions - which was aided by tranquilizing strains of the organ and hymns sang from books, that looked on the verge of disintegrating; but some of the "message" might have got through anyway. No one ever asked me, but had they bothered to seek my definition of hell - I likely would have said, "it happens here ever Sunday morning at St. Christopher's!"
Exactly what commitment have I broken? If I were to consider this matter from the point of view of "commitment to self;" I would immediately be able to see, that over the days that I didn't produce anything in the way of a new blog post, I busked each morning, and then went to work in the mid-afternoon until 11:00 p.m. each night. Today I did some reading and allowed myself an extra nap and gave myself the day off from busking. I took the time to glue and clamp my guitar which has developed another couple cracks (top lifting from the body). This is at present the only guitar I have and I intend to make it last. I saw a video of a fairly recent recording of Willy Nelson and Loretta Lynn. Willy's guitar had a big hole bashed in the face of it. If he can still make music with a guitar in that condition - so can I. My guitar still sounds great - (there was a buzz sometimes audible to only me) I'm pretty sure it will disappear once the glue sets. I wanted to get at this ASAP as leaving it, invites further splitting and potential complication with repair.
I also started looking through some online sites for new songs to include in my busking. There's nothing to say I can't continue to refine and "polish" those I already sing - but some further variety will keep it fresh (in terms of diversity - not so much repertoire itself, given the songs are circa 70's or earlier).
The uptake of this is there actually is no lack of commitment on my part. Or, perhaps an additional call to redefine the idea of "commitment." It doesn't serve me to subject myself to "shame" or self-criticism for perceived "failure." I can set intention to write as frequently as possible - in a measured and balanced way along with whatever else I have going on. A mindset that includes "punishing" does nothing to foster enthusiasm; being, (at least to me) the antithesis of encouragement.
I'm not here to go after the low-hanging fruit by bashing any particular religion. I most certainly will continue to examine for myself, any indoctrination (whatever the source) that has me thinking less about myself, for ultimately doing that which was in front of me to do. If in order to do that the writing needs to be superseded, then so be it.
I can best serve myself by first, not making outlandish commitments. In order to live in the "present" a more effective stance would be to commit to guidance and needs moment to moment. It might just be that an arbitrary commitment made in the past - doesn't serve the current situation. This both means I don't give up on the writing altogether but neither to I cling to it dogmatically if the rhythm of my life calls for some adjustments. My writing has always been informed by my life experience - so sometimes I need to allow myself room to live so that experiences can unfold.
I am not a "flawed" being (nor do I believe anyone else is) but I'm not here to hoist my beliefs on anyone else about that either. You can believe what you want about yourself. Anyone is free to bless me if they feel so inclined. But I neither believe it is necessary to be "blessed" from outside of myself, nor in giving away my power expecting/needing the absolution from others.
If it can be held to be true that "sin" is an old archery term that means "missed the mark" then I'm doing that in various ways, all the time. What I also hold to be true is that the damning and the blessings are mine to bestow. I don't blame the Catholics for my internalized shame - I presented with the baggage of my ancestral inheritance already along with me. I can't say they didn't anything to lighten my load - but then again, maybe they were never meant to. That was, is and will continue to be, my responsibility.
Father Hanley wherever you are - Bless you!
It's been quite a ride since last I saw you! I bet we could have some interesting chats now, if it were possible for us to "shoot the shit!" (Oops was that my outside typing?)
I am blessed (and I "goofed.")
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