I’ve always been a very unbalanced person who strives for balance. They say that in order to feel complete you should make sure you are balanced in all seven areas of life:
Physical
Intellectual
Family
Social
Financial
Career
Spiritual
I have to say that on the whole I am pretty good on all of those. I’m always outside a lot. I’m down with mother nature. I’m creative and make use of my findings.
I make do and mend, I read and do puzzles and play chess and connections. I write and paint and push myself out of my comfort zone.
I go swimming and walking. I play with my friends and do stuff with family and I’m always trying to make some money doing various things. Digits in many fidgets.
I’m also busy making a mini series of art called “Little Wild Things” which I’m having a lot of fun doing. This will be on its way to my coffee shop soon. I’m building botanical apothecary for visual healing and using that for my art philosophy. I hope that confuses you as it is meant to. I need to maintain mysteriosity.
I’m feeding my environment into study and creating with the world beside me. I’m there, at the pulse of life, living in the moment, taking it all in.
But I’m not brilliant at being at one with everything.
So, I went to church on Sunday. With some family - kill two balances in one. I should sit here now feeling righteous and washed of sin but I don’t. And the reason I don’t is because I had some not very nice thoughts cross my mind when I should have been listening to the vicar’s sermon about What Jesus Means to You.
All I could think about was whether there would be Holy Communion. And if you’re wondering what I’m on about, then let me start by saying that I’m not a person who likes to double dip. As I finished singing the last line of Amazing Grace I wondered if a wretch like me could be saved as I got ready to jump the line.
As we were called to the altar I stood up fast, much to the bewilderment of the people beside me. Only the right hand side of the congregation had started to snake out and I stayed upright and keen to go like a person who needed help. My side stayed sat still, waiting patiently, looking at the mad woman who had leapt from her seat in a bid to get to the goodies. Honestly, you’d think that one side would go to the left and one to the right, right? I mean, that makes sense.
I stood my ground and someone from the other side let me push in. I should have declined, been a little gracious, said, “No, no, silly me. I reacted in haste. After you.”
But I didn’t.
I didn’t because all I could think about was how many old people are going to backwash into the blood of Christ in that goblet before it’s my turn?
I know. I’m horrible.
I am also very visual. I had images of ten day leftover food stuck in somebody’s dentures finding it’s way into the blessed Sainsbury’s taste the difference port and it made me feel sick.
I noticed the vicar and his crew went first. Maybe he feels the same? I don’t know that that’s fair to be honest, he should lead by example and be a bit more selfless. I’m already ruined, everybody knows this. I should be the first to be forgiven.
The bread part, the body of Christ, I can cope with that, even though it tastes like you’ve got the seal of the milk carton stuck to your tongue. Nobody has touched it apart from the vicar and I noted his fingernails were clean. And OK, they might wipe the rim of the goblet with a fancy serviette but I’m sorry, that’s not enough.
I knelt, waiting, trying not to over-analyse who was supping beforehand, and when it came to me, I tried to be good but then found myself gently blowing across the top in case there were any floaters. I took the daintiest of sips and wondered if I had a tissue in my bag.
I’m sorry. I am. But I can’t help it.
If I go to church again I think I’m going to have to have a chat with the vicar and explain my issue. I can’t be the first person that has ever thought this and if I am then he needs to remember that even in Romans there’s talk about accepting the outcasts.
What would be even better, and preferential to me, is that perhaps I could have my own goblet?
I might try for that. I think there should be a special dispensation for people who don’t like sharing.
Amen
Heh… you forgot the doggies.. they are an important part of a balanced life. Plus bacon. And toast with beans. Did I mention bacon?
You could convert to Judaism. On Passover we all get our own wine.