Confession Calls and I Crawl Away

My dearest reader,--I have been sitting in front of this computer for hours, waiting minute after minute for some new fresh inspiration.

Between imagination and indecision, I am happily wading this morning in the rushing wild waters of some distant frontier river, wading without socks or spell checking software.

So many things are swimming through my mind. I overheard a terrific story which I immediately decided to interpret as a sign of goodness and faith.

I want to write about prayer. So many words and phrases move back and forth in my brain. I am writing and erasing words, making and unmaking sentences, creating phrases. Indeed I am having fun as a wordsmith but concerned about the lack of progress.

I long to live a devout life of prayer and good deeds.

I am moving toward that goal, slowly toward it.

Goodness, kindness, compassion, hope, and love can encourage us to be better people, to live more humble, more beautiful lives. Our Faith can lead us to many exquisite, inspirational things when we allow ourselves to follow.

I have a juvenile aversion to confession. Disclosing my imperfections and sins to another living person slightly unnerves me. I do not have to be reasonable. I do not have to create syllogisms in my mind. I just have to accept the current status quo. I can listen to all my friends who enjoy confession, who go regularly, and who are able to describe the benefits of it.

I privately think of going, sometimes make elaborate plans for going to confession in another part of the city but somehow I do not follow through. But, there is something good in the making and unmaking of those plans. I am making progress; I do not have a fantastic aversion to confession. My mind just has to add it to my weekly routine, schedule it like a dentist or doctor’s appointment. My mind needs to allow me to imagine it as a dreary sort of desolation or exposition before a new plot point can occur.

An important part of confession occurs before the meeting with the priest. The examination of conscience, the cataloging and acceptance of our sins should happen before confession. The cataloging and acceptance is fun, terrifying, and tiring. I know that it is not enough locate and shine the spotlight on my sins. I know that I need to repent, to acknowledge fault and ask for strength to avoid sinning in the future.

One of these days I will do it, before the next Easter Vigil. Maybe even before Labor Day.

There is a soothing melancholy in life, as ideas become plans, plans become actions, and other actions become plans, and plans becomes ideas. Our minds are constantly working. Our souls should be constantly praying. We create some plans to give our lives a lulling, rhythmic atmosphere. Motion waits for us but we have a plan to execute.

After my confession I will allow myself to enjoy the beautiful, romantic architecture of Venice, to read Scripture while reclining in a gondola, and then listening to music in the Piazza San Marco as I give thanks for the splendor that God has allowed my imagination discover.