The Great Blue Heron can show you all about it. There's one in front of me now, standing in the water. Not troubled by my presence, but reposed. It scans the shoreline with its neck curled, waiting for the moment to scoop up a small fish, in which it then gulps down and stretches its wings, as if it were just too easy.
When the small repair machines came roaring down the track, with their radio's blaring, most of the seagulls grew uneasy, and the crows took flight, but the Great Blue simply waited.
Some random jogger, Adam, or Phillip, or whatever his name was, averted my attention to some christian auditorium he and two thousand other people go to. He said it would stop my soul from vaporizing into the air, and that God would give me his word.
"Oh forget about that, will ya?" He said, addressing the heron. He couldn't have said more about religion in that single phrase. Forget about it. God will fix your problems. God has every thing planned for you. "I'm going to pray for you tonight" He told me. I looked back, but could only see the rocky shore now, and the small stretch of sand, empty. Then he actually started climbing down the rocks, "I've got something I want to give you," referring to a small brochure in his back pocket. "On Saturday we are going to pray for the sick," he jabbed the paper into my hands.
"I'm sorry but I don't believe in Christianity," I said, folding the paper in half.
"Oh! You don't have to believe in god! you ca-
"No, what I mean is, I don't believe in your way of life."
"Pardon?"
"The way that you live, talking to your hands every night. It's delusional. If you want to help sick people why don't you spend your time actually helping sick people? If you just pray for god to do it, then that's just selfish; it's making you feel like you've actually done something for them. Then you can go live your life under a cloud that makes you comfortable. Sorry, this is not for me. I would much rather live every day knowing that there are sick and dying people out there who need help. I would let that feeling of pity grow, and then harvest it when I have the chance to lend a hand."
"I know you will think differently if you just give this a chance, let me tell you a story. . "
Well It looks like my patience does have a limit, because I picked up my bag and walked away. I tried to let myself regress back to that pastoral state of mind I had going on. I sat down, and opened a copy of Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, and it wasn't long until I saw it again. The long yellow bill of the Great Blue Heron stood out against the shore. It had been there all along, behind the rocks, peeking around the edges.
When the small repair machines came roaring down the track, with their radio's blaring, most of the seagulls grew uneasy, and the crows took flight, but the Great Blue simply waited.
Some random jogger, Adam, or Phillip, or whatever his name was, averted my attention to some christian auditorium he and two thousand other people go to. He said it would stop my soul from vaporizing into the air, and that God would give me his word.
"Oh forget about that, will ya?" He said, addressing the heron. He couldn't have said more about religion in that single phrase. Forget about it. God will fix your problems. God has every thing planned for you. "I'm going to pray for you tonight" He told me. I looked back, but could only see the rocky shore now, and the small stretch of sand, empty. Then he actually started climbing down the rocks, "I've got something I want to give you," referring to a small brochure in his back pocket. "On Saturday we are going to pray for the sick," he jabbed the paper into my hands.
"I'm sorry but I don't believe in Christianity," I said, folding the paper in half.
"Oh! You don't have to believe in god! you ca-
"No, what I mean is, I don't believe in your way of life."
"Pardon?"
"The way that you live, talking to your hands every night. It's delusional. If you want to help sick people why don't you spend your time actually helping sick people? If you just pray for god to do it, then that's just selfish; it's making you feel like you've actually done something for them. Then you can go live your life under a cloud that makes you comfortable. Sorry, this is not for me. I would much rather live every day knowing that there are sick and dying people out there who need help. I would let that feeling of pity grow, and then harvest it when I have the chance to lend a hand."
"I know you will think differently if you just give this a chance, let me tell you a story. . "
Well It looks like my patience does have a limit, because I picked up my bag and walked away. I tried to let myself regress back to that pastoral state of mind I had going on. I sat down, and opened a copy of Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, and it wasn't long until I saw it again. The long yellow bill of the Great Blue Heron stood out against the shore. It had been there all along, behind the rocks, peeking around the edges.
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