Lying in bed, unable to fall back to sleep, my thoughts turned to the subject of religion. Don’t psyco-analyse it, please.
Not the bigger questions like WHO IS The Big Whatever, or mortality; not this Flamingo Dancer. [For those who wonder, for this little birdie, The Big Whatever is not some supernatural patriarchal figure in the sky, “the big whatever” is the ” spirit for good” within us and our working for the common good. I view it as social teaching. I also don’t believe that life necessarily has a “meaning”. We live, we die; end of story.] Back to subject…
No, in the wee dark hours I started to analyse the language of some of my childhood prayers. The arts graduate deconstructing literature.
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
If I die before I wake
I pray the Lord my soul to take
I prayed that every night as a small child and now that horrifies me. Fancy having a small child contemplate death as they settle down to sleep. No wonder we had nightmares!
Another prayer we said every day during my Sister of No Mercy days, was the Hail Mary which contains the lines “the fruit of thy womb…”
Except no one ever told us what a womb was, and certainly not what the “fruit” of a womb might be! There we were, piously rattling off words for which we had no meaning or understanding – and what is more, I don’t think I ever held any curiosity in my younger days to find out!
Senseless. No wonder there is such a disconnect with religion today. I won’t even start on the stupidity of taking the bible literally, as so many people devoid of critical thinking do… Too often it just gives the haters a reason to hate.
I am starting to think that the spellchecker is an atheist, for every time I type the word soul it automatically changes it to the word should. Is it a message for me, or just a petulant spell checker?
Anyway, that is what filled my sleepless hours. Not sure if it was better than counting sheep.