A Christmas Story

To say that life is short seems like a waste of life in itself. As it goes, there are people that have dedicated their lives to studying our lives; an existence with no predetermined meaning, no promise of tomorrow, no guarantee, only the hope that we are moving closer to a common thread and will be able to pass our knowledge to the next generation, the next spawn, the next wave of wonderfully curious and mysteriously created human beings.

If life is a water park, these movers and thinkers are the ones sliding down the great unknown, poking their heads into small tunnels and zipping down and around the bends of life's slides. The rest of us are either braving the wave pool, letting the lazy river wrap us around, or climbing brightly colored mushrooms in the kiddie park. There are of course those that are content in the regular pool, doing laps or sitting outside the water, drying in the sun, afraid to get their feet wet.

Perhaps we are all of these people at different times in our lives. Perhaps a few never make it to the park on time, and have to sit in their yards with a hose trickling over them.

[stay with me]

Having lost my faith, it is strange when I hear myself begin to pray silently during a time of stress or reflection or wishful thinking. It comes naturally, after years of indoctrination, and I tend to catch myself midway before laughing and moving on. My prayer has been the same since I was a child and is two-faced in nature; partly a desperate plea for help and partly an intercessory prayer to help others.

In my darkest hour or happiest moment, I have found myself whispering these words to the great unknown: Show Me.

Show me what to do, where to go, who to talk to. Show me the way. Show me what is right, wrong, and in between. Show me how I can help. Show me how I can change. Show me how I can heal the world. Show me how to heal myself. Show me... the money!

It's a demand disguised as a request. It's the frailty in me admitting 'I don't know' but confessing 'I am willing to find out' if only you would Show Me.

When you say that enough times in your life, you begin to make it a life practice. You begin to open your mind to new ideas, new thought processes, new lifestyles. You begin to step out of lazy rivers full of slobbering kids and urine clouds, and you start to climb the steps to the slide towers. You learn which slide is faster, which one requires putting the heavier friends in front, and which one scratches the fuck out of your back.
You begin to learn that the regular pool, though boring and simple, is heated and inviting. You learn that the kiddie park is a great place to meet single mothers. You learn that the wave pool is no joking matter, even for a 6'4" dude like yourself. Those waves will swallow you whole. You learn that stepping out of the water and laying down on strips of heated plastic to bask in the rays of the burning star above is one of life's greatest pleasures.
And you learn that when you're out of the water long enough, it becomes cold and fearful again.

When you seek, you almost always find. When you ask, you're bound to receive eventually.

The funny thing is, the things we are searching and asking for not only require that we actually SEARCH and ASK for them [who woulda thunk?], but in some cases, they are searching and asking for us.

I found this out last night after attending a holiday party hosted by two dear friends, Joe and Ali, that I have spent not nearly enough time with. It was a small gathering of nine people, an authentic Italian cuisine, and enough bottles of wine to take a bath in. I walked in to the find their house had been recently renovated by their own hands; a tile & grout job that would make most couples part ways without so much as saying goodbye. But they did it. And it looked sharp. And if you know anything about the tedious chore that tiling a floor can be, you would know that this couple deserves a trophy for even contemplating such a task.

After being handed a handsome glass of Tullamore Dew whiskey, I began catching up with those in attendance. My lady love arrived and joined us at the dinner table where the nine of us dined on fresh penne and angel hair pastas, chicken Parmesan, tomato salads, crisp breads, asparagus and prosciutto, spicy meatballs, homemade sauces, sliced portabellos, fresh salad greens, and wines galore. We laughed, we cried [from laughter] and we made a good friend reenact the Peanuts dance.

It was a sweet union of beautiful souls , whose only desire was to share a moment of life. Some of us were wave-poolers, some river rats, some slide-riders, tanners, milf-hunters, and breast-strokers, but last night, around that gloriously prepared table, we were all simply patrons of one fantastic water park, eyes opened wide with childhood awe as we discussed our plans for which attraction we would do next, shared our fond memories of visits in the past, and invited each other to join in the next outing.

Joe and Ali are perhaps a healthy combination of all the above but somehow, as I glanced at them from across the table, red sauce smeared around my mouth and wine glass in hand, I felt that if they had a prayer of their own, now, as adults, it would be slightly different than my own.

Instead of 'Show Me' I think theirs might be 'Let Me Show You'

Let me show you the right way. Let me show you how to change. Let me show you the light and love I have found. Let me show me you how to heal yourself. Let me show you the world....

And it dawned on me that, if if there is a purpose to any of this, a meaning to life, a point, a goal or plan - then Joe and Ali have discovered it. WE discovered it, last night, in their open home, in the company of good friends. We were encouraged to get our feet wet. We were invited to the highest tower and advised that though it would be scary at first, it would be worth it. We were led boldly into the onslaught of waves and taught how to tread the depths. We were taught to avoid the river at all costs no matter how enticing or easy it can be. It is a river of pee. Counter the flow and get the fuck out. We were shown exactly what we need to be free, to be strong, to be alive. We were shown Love.



So I have changed my prayer. I have a new plan. I'm stepping out of the streaming circle and avoiding the magical waterfall shrooms. I'm climbing the slick steps to the heights. I'm grabbing my partner and sitting in the front of the tube. I'm swimming out to the distant depths to face the waves with bold excitement.

And in my darkest hours, in my happiest moments, with my head turned towards the sky, eyes open wide, no longer whispering to myself, I will shout into the great unknown, into the face of a seemingly absent creator, into time and space and dimsensions far and wide, Let Me Show You.

Let me show you what we can do.

Let me Show you....





"beyond the horizon lies the secret to a new beginning"

~Waterworld [Yes...the film....blech]