Search This Blog

25 January 2006


At some point in the next 12 hours, I hope to make a religious correlation between God and Dog, the Bounty Hunter. As of right now the theory is clear in my head. We've been having lengthy discussions about the Soul - entity? non-entity? Here today, gone tomorrow? It amazes me how people clam up about it except for those surreal types that grow their hair and dress in long, dark trench coats, or the ones with the hair that is always perfect and have a perfectly arched eyebrow that raises in a combination of disgust and annoyance. The kind of individual where their mouth does not go into a natural curve of a smile. And then there's me. Of course, as a recovering baptist preachers daughter, I have a good deal to say about the soul. Obviously I was raised and moulded into the appropriate shape of what it was that my parents believed and associated their life to, and in turn, I believed and associated the same, or atleast very similarly, to as well.

5 hrs later...

I've stayed home and have been holed up for most of the day... not feeling the greatest and happy to let time pass in my jammie pants. In saying that, I did manage to get some much-needed research completed for a history assignment. I'm good at light and fluffy. Not so great when they say "just the facts, ma'am. just the facts.". I tend to get a bit discombobulated that way. What do you mean? You don't want to know what I was wearing that day??? Sheesh.

Anyways, I think I was discussing the issue of The Soul and Dog the Bounty Hunter. You'll notice that in previous posts, especially those near the beginning of my blogging initiation, I had great thoughts on God and aspirations towards spiritual fronts - one foot in front of the other, making gains on the side of righteousness, while leaving the past right where it was at - the past.

And here I sit. On the nubbin ball, looking at the final week of January so quickly approaching, trying not to be blase, and attempting to make this whole damn thing tangible. Surprisingly enough, it's tougher than it looks.

Here's a secret about me: I'm an 'all or nothing' kind of personality at the true heart of the issue. This is something that I tend to have to safeguard and keep in check, because really, it tends to fuck a lot of things right up. But that's how it goes, especially in my spiritual life. If I'm screwing up, or screwing around, then my immediate reaction is that I can't talk to God, least of all, send any prayer requests to anywhere other than the dust bunnies that so lovingly surround me. If I'm screwing then God is damning. That's the way things go, or atleast, those are my natural tendencies.

So enter Dog. I love this show. You can all make fun of me in whatever way you want to, but I still love it. I love his wife Beth and her great big boobs. I love that Dog employees all 47 of his children in some form or another. And best of all, I love that he prays before he goes after the bad guys. It's not about the crime, it's about the person that did it, the safety of the people trying to correct it, and the gentleness that is genuine in the capture. Like last night, Beth told someone something that they had to bleep out, yet turned around and gave the women they arrested her shoes. It was a natural inclination. And then Dog found odd jobs around his home for the son of the same women. In fact, they even found him a room in their home.

And I learned a lesson.

I learned that too many times I get hung way up on semantics, on the things that really, at the end of the day, don't matter an ounce of importance. I am reminded of a verse that says that God looks at the heart, and what comes out of the heart is what makes a person who they are. There are some things in this life that you just can't fake. Strangely enough I often worry about what people think of me, or more maybe about why they think what of me. I guess that's probably more it - Why someone believes something to be true about you.

So last night I said some prayers, mingled with the mild trepidation of thoughts of a lighning bolt shooting through the top two floors to find me in my bed. But I pressed on and the lightning never came. I told God that I used to be good at praying, atleast how I thought that I should pray, but I'm not so good at it anymore because the way I always saw things, had, well, changed. But that I still believed in who I thought He was, just maybe not in all the same capacities that I had originally blamed or praised him for. I also told him that I was frightened of a change outside of how I grew up - a fall from grace that was outside of a graceful hand. I asked him to watch over PC and my family because we all have our little quirks that make us each us. I thanked him for the quirks. And my friends. And my poor decisions. And I told him that I would work on keeping in closer contact, but that I couldn't be overwhelmed by how everyone else thought it should be done. I told him that I sought clarity and light, but as soon as I said it, I was made very aware that I wasn't so sure of what those two things were. But that was ok too. There may not be all the time in the world, but there have been very few people that knew it all and lived to tell about it. We decided that we would work on it day to day. In the meantime I would say my prayers and be reminded that people don't want to hear a case of What Would Jesus Do when their feet are cold or their bellies hungry. He fed them before he ever opened his mouth. That was the lesson I learned from Dog.

"Never floss with a stranger."

Joan Rivers.


Jeni Paij said...

Nice to see you over Ms. D and thank you for your kind comments. I truly do enjoy your visits.

I understand what you mean about not being sure how to pray in a correct manner. If it helps, I'll just mention that I have a fairly fluid running dialog with God daily. In fact, it's more like a rapid stream of unconsciousness.

Sometime it's out when I accidentally let the words "fuck me" pass my lips on the day the computer crashed and I lost all my work. In all things be careful what you pray for...we're all angels just trying to acquire wings, after all. :)

I've been trying to rearrange my attitude to the things that bum me out. From now on, maybe I'll replace the expletives with "Mercy" or "World Peace." I hear reverse psychology works well in hell.


Blog on...



Ms Dare2dv8 said...

I absolutley appreciate what you just said - I will do the same. Mercy... Mercy.... Mercy.

The new mantra!


Fenn said...

we watch dog faithfully and i speak for myself when i say mainly because of leland ;)

i've been feeling alot of guilt lately and paige's comment about being careful what you pray for made me wonder if i would be living the life i'm living now if i hadn't prayed my ass off. have i clipped some peoples wings to make my life better? i'm fearful that i have but i'm not completely sure. anywho, i didn't mean to blab on...

Ms Dare2dv8 said...

Blab away! This is what we're here for, baby!!