Sunday Morning

Carmen left at 8:00 this morning. She's doing church stuff until 2:00, stopping at the grocery store, and coming home about 3:00. I don't envy her.

I have a long-standing tradition on Sunday mornings. Since my rejection of religion 42 years ago, there has been a vaguely melancholy hole in my life around this time of the week. Susan Werner sang about it in her song "Sunday Mornings" on The Gospel Truth album. I have long spent this time musing on the meaning of things, when the opportunity has presented itself. Like today.

After cleaning the kitchen and the litter box area within an inch of their lives and sweeping the back patio, checking email and catching up on Facebook, I couldn't wait to navigate here to muse 'out loud' to my faithful followers- all four of you.

I was a devoted Unitarian Universalist atheist for about ten years. It was an opportunity to share with a (mostly) caring and open minded community. I put together some of the more popular lay-led church services, delivered passionate god-free sermons, sang in the choir and used some of my vast array of talents in service to said community. I enjoyed it, mostly. But I have one fatal flaw that eventually caught up with me, even there: humans make me crazy.

It comes as a shock to me every time I see on my Facebook profile that I have, as of today, 49 friends. Who, me? I have friends in Vero Beach, St. Augustine and Orlando, Florida. A few are in Maryland, land of my birth. I have a bunch in New England and one in New Zealand. A new one- someone I've never met but who reads this fascinating crapola- added herself to my list today. She lives in New Jersey. How did this happen?

Possibly this next piece of information helps: I have none in Albuquerque other than Carmen. I'm pretty sure that before we leave I will have added one or two here- maybe more. Even if I never find a job here, I plan to get active in the large local theatre scene as a volunteer. I have already sort of connected with a couple of Background Actors. But it seems to be distance that keeps the fires burning. I am an introvert to the nth degree, which surprises people who know me by my wild and crazy persona at work or my love of performing in front of audiences. I get a big rush out of entertaining, but my sanity, such as it is, comes from solitude.

So therein lies the paradox. I need people in my life. I even enjoy being around many of you in small groups. But I need to be alone even more. So come and be my friend- then go away!