The exercise was to draw, with a stick in ink, and to “follow a line”; then to write about ones spiritual journey. One possible method was to make an acrostic from the word “Pilgrimage”. Not happy with my place, now, I wrote about it disjointedly, then made my Pilgrimage picture. Microsoft Paint followed its program, and I did not fully understand the commands I was giving it.
Then we were to worship-share about the experience. Oh god do we have to? I had shrunk my picture, having thought I was simply shrinking the view of it, and I grew it again, making it pixellated. I noticed the colours down the sides of the letters, when I expanded it again.
So I spoke. I need to trust- myself and the world. I showed off my picture. I need to hate: I have imagined myself growing, spiritually, for fourteen years, and what I wanted from that was not to feel uncomfortable emotions. And- there are no bad emotions. I need to hate, I need to feel and express my anger. I need to Hate.
I spoke, and Mark caught my eye. His- is it expressionlessness?- I took as a slight smile. After, we talked.
-Could you explain that again?
-I- found love and respect for- I would have said “forgave” but that implies something to forgive- my mother, after descending into my anger with her, my sense of betrayal and cruelty, my hatred. She did her best under difficult circumstances. She did not understand. I want to move from that lesson, to hate the World- so that I might Accept, rather than merely tolerate it.
-I’m not sure I understand.
-Then I don’t think I can explain it.
That’s new. I have wanted to explain, because if I can make sense to someone else, then what I think might have some value- but at that moment it made sense to me, and that was enough.
-I know so little about you! I could project anything onto you, and imagine it was you I was seeing, rather than myself. Oh, we make pictures. But, rather than having three disjointed pieces of the jigsaw and imagining the whole picture from them, I want to see those pieces, and not be too attached to how they fit into the larger picture. Yet we give so much value to first impressions.
-Who do you mean by we?
-The human race.
-We are clinging less to our preconceptions. We are getting lighter, said F. She meant the human race, too. I agree, but S does not. He does not like people speaking for him. F left, perhaps discomfited.
Over dinner, L passed me the cheese board, then when I put my hand out withdrew. As I told her, yes, it did hurt- but that is part of the ordinary frictions of human coexistence.