I have never been one to whom sleep came as a rare commodity. I have been able to lay down my head, fall asleep relatively fast and sleep soundly. These days, I am surprised by the difficulty of doing such. Since I traveled through the Nile, my sleep patterns have been interrupted, or more accurately, completely shattered. And what sleep I get is interrupted by dreams of struggle. I was getting almost normal toward the end of September, right before I moved into my father’s guest bedroom. Now, it is a seemingly impossible task.
Last night, or rather, early this morning, I did not doze off until almost 3:00. I was wound up from the festivities and then my writing, which caused my brain to ramble on and on and on. Then at 8:23, my father bounded out of his room and shouted jovially at his wife, “Wow! It smells good! Whatcha making?”
Good morning!
He’s right. It does smell good. My mouth is watering and my stomach is growling. Banana bread… it’s such a homey smell.
And now I am sitting here, a tad kerfuffled and feeling tired but knowing I cannot sleep, and I am staring at this framed portrait that is staring directly back at me. It is the Christ in traditional Mormon regalia – white tunic and red robe (I cannot remember why his robe is red! Why is his robe red???!) The picture of this surprisingly Caucasian Jewish man from Nazareth has a quote which states: I never said it would be easy. I only said it would be worth it.
This is a oft-used declaration used in the LDS church (and perhaps others, as well, although I cannot quote from personal experience) to boost the spirits of the Fold. It reminds them that they chose to come here because it would be worth it, not because it would be easy.
I feel angry about that.
All my life, I have been taught that life is hard and ya gotta work hard, but have nothing to show for it. It is a wicked paradigm, this life is hard way of thinking. It robs men of their joy. Life is spent struggling to make ends meet, struggling to become perfect, struggling to save, struggling to get ahead, struggling, struggling, struggling. And, within the Church, there is an even more insidiously destructive way of thinking: life will be better in the hereafter. Therefore, people spend their entire life in limbo, thinking that this life is meant for struggle because the hereafter is going to be so much easier.
I have come to believe that the hereafter is just that – here after. I take me with me and it will be what I create of it, just like in this life.
*sigh*
It will be what I create of it, just like in this life?
Yes, yes, I know. Angie, listen to your own preaching… my life is as I create it. And all the New Age colloquialisms come rushing at me: what you resist persists; what you think about, you bring about; it is as it is and as it is, it is.
Yeah yeah yeah… I hear ya. I hear it, but have yet to assimilate it, apparently.
Now I am going to go eat some banana bread for breakfast and take a nap in a bit because dad and his wife will be at church and the house will be quiet. Perhaps I will be able to assimilate after a satifying, dream-less nap.
