The u(U)niverse & stuff.

This is my second version of this post, and it's pretty obvious that I don't often do any editing here. It takes a lot for me to delete something.

Initially I got all high & mighty about our fearless leader's recent prattling about prayer. I strung a few high-minded sentences together about GW lifting his voice to God for the 30 some odd students killed at Virginia Tech, but wondered if he ever spares a prayer for the tens of thousands civilians murdered in his immoral war in Iraq?

Blogs are boring, and mine's one of the boringest. I'm resigned to that. But I don't wanna be all outraged about GW, too. Most people just get it about him, anyway, right? Unless they don't. In which case there's not much I can do to help.

I don't pray, and it's never occurred to me to start. I wouldn't know how to pray, or to whom. I won't be asking the Easter Bunny or the God of Abraham for any favors.

I've known people who do pray -- a few humanists who send "good thoughts" into the ether, a frantic Christian or two who constantly petition their lord for favors and guidance in all matters (however trivial) as instructed by St. Paul (that cantankerous old fuck), and Catholics of all stripes who seem to do whatever they want, believe whatever they want, and still wrap themselves in their faith as though it were half virtue and half birthright/burden.

I don't get it. Sure, I've sent up a few wishes in my day, and I've set flame to a burden or two, but... I'm just a simple atheist. I won't mitigate the truth by describing myself as "spiritual". Right thinking people have no business claiming spirituality. Ultimately we'll all be wormgrub or ash, and that's the plain truth of it.

My universe has no initial capital, thank you.

Some things can only be said in a small voice, in a serious way. Eric and I have talked about the fact that (barring axe see dents) I'll likely die before he, and sooner than either of us would like. It's heartbreaking, and the sort of thing that's best discussed in a whisper, with our foreheads touching.

I'm not saying I'm anxious to become ash.

A long, long, time ago -- back when the tight fist of guilt and sorrow hadn't quite lifted from my chest -- I asked Eric if he believed that love could be transformative... if love could make someone better than they were..

Eric just loved me. He could only guess at what sadness or regret lead me to ask such a question. But Eric told me yes, in the clear voice of man who'd lived most of his days feeling lucky and loved. And I believed him, and that's my total experience with faith.

I've said before that my life has been a miracle, and it has. I'm an atheist who believes in miracles, if his name is Eric.

I don't pray, and it's never occurred to me to start. If I sit quietly and listen, I hear the white noise of traffic and Eric moving around in the office. If my body doesn't hurt, and if I sit quietly and think about what I would want to pray about (if I believed in gods or spooks) I draw a blank.

It comes back to what I want to say, which is mostly just thank you. Thank you. Thanks. Certainly I wish that some things could be different -- GW and cancer, to name two, but -- if you have the ear of the cosmos or the sandman or even just a tiny corner of the blogsphere, it makes much more sense to me to be grateful if you can, and to let the rest go.