Sin…you mentioned you do not take the Lord’s name in vain, or blaspheme, for that is a sin in the eyes of your religion, while other adherents to their beliefs would spit on your God.
Is there a sin there?
I have often said ‘God damn it!’ but which god am I invoking? The one from Hinduism that condemns misfortune and bad luck? Of course I am, even without being conscious of it.
Ah, but is it primarily bad to spit on the God of someone’s belief, or ask the God of someone’s belief to damn something for its fault or failure?
The Bible has many instances of God being asked to ‘damn’ something…just look at Moses and John.
Yes, another waffle-on…sometimes I can’t help it…I descend from lineages to be me, created from an egg and a sperm. Some don’t get the luxury of knowing what sin is let alone what bad is…their world is a harsh environment that doesn’t have much but hunger, confusion, uncleanliness that needs cleaning, distractions that can bother, and sleep.
In some religions, being alive in such a deformed state is a sin.
In other religions, not believing in their God is a sin.
For me, I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.
But as me…well, I think I have written enough in the past to describe what I do with sticks and stones thrown at me or others, while also blending in with the nature of my surroundings. My surroundings are not me but I can be my surroundings…I can be a mirror at any moment and in doing so, reflect who I am as constructed from my surroundings within the very mind that is responsible for these words.
Do I sin? All ways.
Do I do the opposite of sinning? Always.
Ah, but is what I do, bad? I can make a mistake and rectify it, and that’s not bad…that’s growth. If growing was bad or a sin, eggs would never get fertilised in the first place and sperm would not come in the millions but in an equal ‘one’ to the egg. Ah, the egg…such a trap inside and out…the sperm destroyed and absorbed so that I may have life…I wonder if that is the nature of ‘us’: we are all Eggs. What single thing from all that surrounds us will give creation to something we change into? And what gets destroyed along the way…ah, what a dance of life.
And we’re dancing on the head of a pin, dear Lady. Some are tapping; others waving their hands around. Some are doing both at the same time. It’s quite a show, isn’t it? One big stage where everyone has a role to play and the script has a title and we all ad-lib our parts.
Director! Whose line is it? And shall it be contemporary dance or free-style…we’ve had drama, tragedy, comedy, romance, mystery and blah. Maybe I should take my next lead from those immortal lines: a little less conversation, a little more action please.