There is solace in solitude. I can testify to that. Sitting in silence with me as my only conversationalist is sacred. What's that? Me using the word sacred? Yes. Anything that calms me, centers me and corrects my course is sacred.
Sacred is a space. A place of perfecting the inward. An outward movement to peace.
But not every moment is like that. I love to imitate the whirlwind. I love to pontificate. I live to educate. I had one of those moments today. A lot of us crazies have those moments. We live for them.
I went on a rant today with my cousin. I would call it half a rant. Guess what it was about? Religion. Specifically Christianity and its adherents, or more specifically, its non-adherents who believe they can mandate your adherence to their conception of rules and regulations in order to be "saved".
Okay. Enough already. But kudos to my cousin for being very patient with me while I had my moment.
I wasn't that bad. Honestly. And that's the only way to be and to complete me. Honest.
That being said, I wonder why I feel like I have to launch into a diatribe like that. Actually, I wonder why I wonder.
Because I know the answer. Us crazies live to hold on to one thing that convicts us. One thing that explains us. One thing to sustain us.
Then comes the silence.
The satisfying empty.
And for a moment...
we have solace.