Goddess Parking

I confessed to my minister friend yesterday that at one time I longed to be a reverend or a minister and even  applied for my online license through Universal Ministries Dot Com but in the end selected the title "goddess" from the long list of possibilities, because that seemed, well, a bit more likely. Along with my official certificate they even sent me a goddess parking permit to clip to my rear view mirror. I'm sorry to say I cleaned it out in one purge or another but maybe there's time to reapply for a more current, up-to-date version.

I consider the fact that I wanted to be "in the church" one of my bigger, more shameful secrets, and not just because I'm Jewish. But why? Why is it easier to say I'm an alcoholic/love junkie/everything-addict than that I want to work for a powerful, mysterious, omniscient force I can sometimes feel but not see? My bookshelf is crammed with books about Kaballah and world religions and meditation and a copy of the Bhagavad-gita, handed to me in a subway in NYC and a Gideon's Bible stolen from a motel in Olympia but I don't read any of them anymore. I have my own direct line and don't feel much need to chat with the secretary.

What God tells me and what I tell God is way racier and more revolutionary than anything in erotica or LSD, at least for me, who along the way has tried pretty much everything available to a wild and hungry girl traveling the world on boat and horseback and train and plane and Honda looking for that voice she eventually found in Richmond's westend somewhere between the Village Exxon and Regency Mall. I still have plenty of vices but  I believe a connection with something greater than myself is what I was looking for in bottles and embraces. I don't want to be a nun and I no longer need to be a goddess. Being a mother, wife and teacher is close enough, but I wouldn't mind a few perks of the job.