Monday, August 29, 2011

As For Some Experiences I Will Remain A Virgin.

"There is nudity in that movie," said Coral absently from the kitchen.

I was loading a DVD.  Forgetting Sarah Marshall.

I looked over at my sister.  She was in the process of bleaching her black dread locks.  In an effort to spare her clothes she had removed every stitch.

"There is nudity in THIS movie," I said gesturing to her bare everything.

We laughed.  It had not occurred to her... It is simply how we do.

Coral knows I don't watch movies with nudity or excessive violence or vast amounts of foul language.  These things upset me.  Make me feel filthy with a strong desire for repentance and a hot bath.

But I today I felt rebellious.  I am, after all, a grown woman!  I can do whatever the hell I want!  I can watch a movie with nudity if I so choose.  Right?  I am over the age of 18, for heaven's sake.

So I watched the movie.  There was indeed nudity.  Of the full frontal male variety.

"Oh! Ugh," I said.

I slapped my hand over my eyes.  But it was too late.  I felt just awful.  The actor's junk was seared into my brain.  You can't unsee junk, ya know.  I am forever altered.

"I told you," said Coral.

Later that night she put clothes on and took me to a showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.  

"Everyone should see it at least once," said my sister.

She drew a red "V" for virgin on my cheek as is the custom for newcomers to the show.

There were transvestites from every walk of life.  There were pretty trannies and super scary cross dressers.  Young men were dressed in sparkly gold spandex shorts.  Young women donned crisp white bras and matching slips. There were wigs.

I had no idea what I was in for.

I watched the entire show.  I tried to be brave.

"You okay?" Coral would whisper.

"Uh huh!  Yup!" 

Oh.  But I wasn't.  I wasn't okay at all.  I began to feel ill.  Actually physically ILL.

I can't say why exactly.  I only know I felt offended.  Too much swearing.  Too much ick.  Too much yuck.  Too much muck.

I didn't want to be lame.  I didn't want to be the dork in the Sunday School lesson who gets up and leaves with righteous purpose and shames everyone else.

I withstood the blows to my sensitive soul with an uneasy smile.

Our next stop was Vegas' Hard Rock Cafe Casino.  There was a battle of pianos.  I was in heaven.  I stood up and danced the Ick away.  I shook my backside until the muck slid from my sullied heart and mind and into a sticky mess on the floor before me.  I danced like the world had fallen away.  Earths collided.  I didn't notice.

There was a time (quite recently) I would have been more than okay with the events of the day.

I was surprised at my discomfort.  Could it be I was becoming... spiritually refined?  Me?

I consider myself a Seeker.  A Seeker of Truth and Light.  I began Seeking More when I found myself in darkness.  Lost.  Alone.  Devastated.  I felt there was no one on this Earth to turn to.  So I turned to God.

In so Seeking I have put off the Natural Woman to the best of my feeble abilities.  I have prayed for Peace and Light.  I have sought to see things as they truly are.  We live in a confused and fallen world, my friends.

I love my Coral dearly.  She is my best friend.  I in no way fault her for having the stamina to take such sights and sounds into her arsenal of memories.  She wishes to live and experience as much as she can.  She wants Fire and Chaos and Passion.  She is currently at Burning Man.  I worry.  But her life is her own.  This is her mortal probation.

And this is yours.  And this is mine.

I judge no one for where they stand spiritually in this darkened world.  We have been thrown into a pressure cooker and are expected to Love.

I wish to live and experience peace.  Peace comes at a high opportunity cost.

I was blind and (rote as it may sound) I see.

I am shocked to discover it.