Obviously, I’m not alone in my prayer-strike. I’m well aware of that. Many people simply don’t pray or have never prayed and now I’m in solidarity with them too. This blog does not have some hidden agenda to get people to pray or not to pray. Not that I know of. And I’m really not praying. Talks have not resumed and the prayer strike continues. I don’t know how long this will go on.
I still think that there is far more shame than glory in this life. But everyone focuses on those who succeed, so there is an illusion that things go well for the courageous. For every ‘success’ out there, there are a thousand who feel far too defeated by the blows of life.
I think I’m largely expected to be praying again at some point. This is the expected outcome, but I can assure you that it is not a certain outcome for me. If my prayers are not answered then it simply will not happen. The believer who tried atheism for a year ended up becoming an atheist. Stories do not always end happily. Or successfully.
I should probably write about all the million and one ways in which practically dealing with all my brother’s affairs is at turns frustrating and onerous. I used to think that all of the messages coming in thinking a dead loved one was still alive were a cruel revelation of the way in which bureaucracy simply does not care. But that feels like the least of my worries. I feel I have little to offer when it comes to practical advice on dealing with the affairs of a dead loved one. Get them to make a will. Take one step at a time. It is ongoing so I can’t help much.
And this blog has been focusing on the spiritual side to it all anyway. When more bad news from some company or other comes through, my first reaction is to blame God. Who, I feel, has largely left me to stew. Thief.
What a loose cannon I must be seen as right now. Not holding to the party line.
Life is not calmer for me. It is still a hellish storm on the inside, no matter the outside weather. My mental health does not feel good. Spring has properly come – flowers are out and the trees are regaining their leaves which unwrap themselves like emerging butterflies. I like this time of the year, with the longer days, the bright colours and subtle smells of the flowers, but my storm has not abated. And in a way it is still very dark and cold in so many ways for so many of us. It is possible to wake with a feeling of hope in hope, but by the end of the day this is usually drummed out of me. The days often end in frustration, defeat and fatigue. Like trench warfare. So that even the illusion of hope feels cruel.
The country feels so angry and febrile. Everything here is glitchy or crumbling or breaking down. It influences the big and the small things. Bringing the usual frustration. Maybe it is just this country. Too old and too sick not to be falling apart. Not dead at least.
And the spiritual demons will kick you when you are down. Because they hate us.
So, what do you do with the haters?