Sunday, July 25, 2010

Been to hell, got the t-shirt.

Ammo was thrown over the back fence of the Humane Society when he was barely four months old. Puppy abuse and eight months in the shelter has left him a bit twitchy, to say the very least. He is happily part of my pack now, and learning to trust. I hope that Ammo, in the words of Dean Koontz can find that, "... hatred and anger are only scars upon a beach, while love is the rolling surf that ceaselessly smooths the sand."

What the hell?

So what the hell is hell, anyway? For most of my life I believed hell was a dreary, hot, boring, place where you went to suffer for eternity if you hadn't adhered to religious dogma during your life. I have a better perspective on my own life than anyone, and my job as a psychotherapist gives me the (sometimes painful) privilege of having an intimate look into the lives of others. I can say with some authority, therefore, that traditional hell sounds like a relative picnic compared to some of the circumstances of my life and the lives of others.

Religion hasn't done much to make my life easier in spite of its claims. Asking for relief or help really didn't seem to change anything; for the most part prayer felt like I was phoning in from the land of who gives a shit with a bad connection. So I have given up on religion and resorted to bare-bones spirituality. Future posts will be my opportunity to work out what spirituality means by sharing it with you.

Lest you think that this blog will be all gloom, doom, and earthly pitchforks, let me hasten to assure you that the only way I have found to survive living hell has been to sail through life laughing my ass off, crying when necessary, and assisted by a twisted, loving, and loyal crew of friends. Feel free to assess my base level of crazy as we go...