Full of Confusion

January 18, 2020

We left our last article with me finding Alcoholics Anonymous, and beginning the recovery process. I really had no idea of what I was doing; all I knew for sure was that I had spent the previous 27 years being essentially absolutely miserable. I had thought that I had found a way to begin to change that, hoping against hope that somehow my relationship with the nanny would enable me to truly open up, to really acknowledge my feelings and needs. With 17 years of severe child abuse at home, at least 4 years of extreme bullying at school I was a wreck, I was hard, cold, and I cared for nothing, I was dead inside and it was quite literally killing me.

The thing about the A.A. rooms though was this; it was a safe place for everyone to explore their trauma, and their associated feelings in a safe loving environment. Being able to do that was exactly what I needed. I needed to learn how to feel again, and the recovery experience was an incredibly bumpy, terrifying, exhilarating ride that was both exactly what I needed, and, left me too vulnerable to a narcissistic leprechaun that I would spend the next 20 years of my life with. And yes, I am referring to my former business partner. She and her family in the end would do me as much, if not more damage, than my upbringing had. In my emotional naivety I had mistaken empathy for love. Her story though does deserve empathy; I mean her own mother had her tongue docked when she was an infant because she thought it was too long. I mean really, what the fuck is that?

Unsurprisingly, just as just about everyone else in those rooms, I struggled hard with the idea of a higher power (Insert Boston song “Higher Power” if possible). A higher power, who God? The fucker who is a schizophrenic with multiple personality disorder? That higher power? According to some in the rooms, well no, not god, how about instead a broom handle, a doorknob, your shoes, you know they will not drink. Sure, it’s true they won’t drink, they can’t, they are inanimate objects, I’m not worried about drinking or drugging, I made a decision not to, and that’s all there is to it, and for 20 years it’s been as easy as that. My struggle was far more complex than that, I already knew that god was an ass, and that most churchgoers were nothing but hypocrites, I needed to understand where the bible and its fucked up god had come from. And maybe, just maybe find an answer to the eternal question bouncing around in my head, what is this crap about the Holy Grail all about?

My search began slowly, and it was not focused in any way. I had always had an interest in the pyramids of Giza, the Mayan ruins of Mexico, as well as the temples of Cambodia, and had wondered if they were connected in any way. I, like everyone else, either would not or could not connect the dots. When the underwater ruins in Polynesia were discovered, I kept coming up with references to fish people; I had to ask myself, what the fuck is that all about?  It was a long slow process of watching T.V. specials, reading articles in publications such as National Geographic, and believe it or not, Playboy magazine. Gradually a pattern began to emerge, and it said clearly that the history that I had been taught in school, and in church, was way out of sync with our true past.

Then the question became why? What on earth is so god awful important that the glorious things that we had attained in the past should be hidden? And if we could build incredible things like the pyramids back then, why could we not now? In addition, why did the church, the supposed authority on our ancestors, know so precious little about it? Then of course, there was/is the church’s fucked up attitude towards sex, what was up the guilt that we are supposed to feel?

The more I looked at these issues; it seemed more and more likely that the church was behind all of it, but why? Why had they removed books from the bible? Why were they frustrating research in to the Dead Sea Scrolls? Why are they so adamant that the Shroud of Turin is Christ? I also could never figure out, if the lands of the bible were so holy, and if Christianity was the only “true” religion, where had Islam come from? And why were Christians, Muslims, and Jews at each other’s throats? And what about the Jews, Jesus was a Jew, not a Christian. There were real mysteries here, and as I began my quest for the Holy Grail, I never imagined that I would find answers to each and every question, and every question after that. The truth is out there, and the only way of obtaining it, is to suspend belief in what you have been taught. The church never did, and to this day, does not, have your spiritual welfare at the center of, or really, even on its map.

When you suspend your belief system, sure you will experience fear, confusion, perhaps outright terror, but remember, the Grail serves those who serve. My father’s experience of the Grail was tragic, my early quest was bumpy, and in finding a way to serve the Grail, I have found a serenity that I would never have believed humanly possible. So let us together bound in to the rabbit hole, and transform this weary world in to one of wonder!

This is where my father stopped his quest, unable to get past his fear for his immortal soul. My father, despite his addiction, was an incredibly intelligent man. He actually had me believing that the American president J. F. Kennedy was in the biblical book of Revelations. Dad, like so many others, was forcing pieces together that just are not meant to fit. The book of Revelations was put together for one reason only; to scare the hell out of everyone, it is wrote specifically vague so that when the church feels it necessary, it can pull whatever bit of nastiness out of it, and scare all us uneducated peasants back in to line.

But why would they do that? This institution that is supposed to promote brotherly love, that we were all created equal, that espouses that god loved us so much that he gave his only begotten son for us. What was with all the fear? Then when you tried to ask them about that, they engaged in obfuscation, they are artists in it, I personally wonder if they have to take a mandatory course in it at seminary school.

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