Friday

I found an angel.

I was with my neighbor, walking his dog, and we walked by a dumpster. It's one of those dumpsters with a compactor, and there's a little control panel on the side. On top of that control panel, I saw a ceramic Angel.

It is not the most trying time for my family, but it is pretty trying - - there is some sketchy stuff happening to one of my clan, and a couple of us are trying to make a plan.

I don't usually believe in 'Signs' and stuff like that, but in this case...it's just that...it's a pretty odd coincidence. I guess. Or something.

If my mom would have found an Angel like this - in a place like that - in times like these...it would have really blown her mind. For sure. If she would have found it after my brother died, it would have blown her mind big time and for real and she would have been sure that he put it there for her to find. I know that much for sure.

When I found it, it blew my mind a bit...and now I'm thinking about it...and blogging about it...after not having posted a durn thing to this blog in...how long?...after having this jonk locked down...how long? And I come back with a religious-y post? What the...

Things are just as stressful (or not) as they were before I locked the blog down...and I don't know why I locked the blog down and I don't know why I opened the blog back up.

My neighbor dragged me to Mass on Sunday. It's the first time I'd been in a Catholic Church in a while. The last time was when my sister was down, and we drove all over Florida like we do when she comes, and we went to the Church attached to her old Catholic School on the gulf side, Saint Jude's, in St. Pete.

As I walked up to the Church this last Sunday, there was a feeling of familiarity, even though I've never gone in there in my life.

I took a religion course in college, it was actually under the philosophy curriculum. In that course, all we did was set about defining three words: faith, belief and disbelief. We read stuff from all the big dogs in philosophy, you can imagine. It was intense. It was interesting when we set about defining faith. What is it, exactly.

For me, when I use reason, religion just don't make no sense...some of it...a lot of it. I got on the Buddhism thing in order to try to get my mind right and all, but it is practical and readily practice-able and hands on and easily usable for dealing with stress and sadness and craving and so on. With Christianity, I have doubt. I don't want the doubt. I don't summon the doubt. The doubt just surfaces in my brains...I can't help it. I think that as far as Christianity goes - or any religion out there that might be 'true' - my faith does not come out of reason, out of reasonable thinking. It's a gut thing. It's an instinct. My thinking just gets in the way of it...or...splashes around it, not really altering it. I don't know if it's my thing or the 'true' thing is Christianity or what, but I know that when I walk by a Church I get a warm feeling...from...somewhere. I know that when I say blasphemous shit, I laugh about it, but deep down there's somethin...sayin...somethin...like...Hey, uh...um

As usual, I don't know what the h___ heck I'm talking about, and I'm just pounding away at the keyboard...hands doing one thing (typing), mind doing one thing (fumbling for words), instinct doing not all that much (except sending slightly nervous tingles out now and then)

Anyway, so I kept the Angle. I put on my mantle in between two items I cherish, a lighthouse I got for my mom for her birthday one year, and a painting I received as a wedding present from one of my favorite artists in the whole world.

I thought about it more, and I have the following rambling, stream of thought to share if you'll allow it. A recent 'art project/hobby/stunt/prank' thing that I have been doing lately is to affix unlikely items to walls or windows or wherever in public using small adhesive pads...items like...chop sticks, for example, or little tiny plastic guns that action figures carry. I thought, wow, what if I go to the religious shop and buy a bunch of little angels and start leaving them in places. Would I be a terrible person playing a prank? Or am I impelled to do this, I, myself, thinking it's a prank, but in a bigger reality, it is a good thing to do because when somebody finds it, they'll feel what I felt today when I found my Angel...and it wall all be part of a divine action that I am just a small piece of. And then I thought, woah, maybe this is what just happened to me! I got spirit pranked.

Too much thinkin, man.