took my veil from me

there is a line in death shroud which says, they took my veil from me.

well, that is what happened this weekend. i was hiding behind metaphor. a few people who read me know this. a few souls who can see me, through the words, through the lines, understand what i'm saying even when i hide it in metaphor.

i have dropped the veil. and i'm not ready to stand before anyone but a select few unadorned. naked, as it were.

the things i'm writing are so profoundly personal (like what i was writing before wasn't?), that i'm not sure what i will do with them.

a poet stood before me this weekend and said,

send your stuff out.

it's not about that for me,

i said.

he just looked at me.

it's about relationship.

i don't understand it either. but i'm straddling two worlds here. the christian world doesn't know what to do with me. they don't want to publish anything worth reading (ha! that was an arrogant statement, that i'll leave there for you to see). not that i am so worth reading, but i just can't find anything being published right now that i can't live without.

the secular markets will be oblivious, likely, about my many allusions to the church. but maybe that is how it is supposed to be.

one thing is utterly clear to me. i can't join a convent. as i sat there watching those beautiful women worshipping God, dedicating their entire lives to Him, it became abundantly clear to me. i'll never be a nun.

i'm too sensual. too fond of the other sex. too fond of sex (there i said it). too involved in the lives of people to be truly secluded for any great length of time. no internet. what would i do?

it was clear to me i'm not into obscurity as much as i think i am. those ladies fade their entire lives into community. they sing as one, they live as one, they act as one. separateness is not an integral part. selflessness, connectedness, unity are.

i really thought, before i sat there watching them, that it would be something i could "do" but i can't. perhaps as an oblate or associate, but not, most certainly not as a regular.

first of all, i'd be like the nun in mark salzman's book and they'd be trying to cure my lust. that would be a problem. all the works which will come about the church would not be recieved in the convent, they would be scorned. i promise you.

so i'm still a woman without a home. a sojourner of sorts in a land unfamiliar. only now, without a veil.