tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15524211.post1825049307396034801..comments2024-03-06T21:02:52.061-05:00Comments on Bad Alice: Meeting Myself in PassingBad Alicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540577363786819292noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15524211.post-12778848935387798242020-07-10T17:31:11.512-05:002020-07-10T17:31:11.512-05:00I like that. I'm there, too. Basic entertainme... I like that. I'm there, too. Basic entertainment for me, I'm 83 with plenty of time to think about Important Things. Not strangely, I think about What Comes Next. I'm agnostic so I do't expect angels with wings in heaven. It bothers me some that I have to be dead to discover the answer.whimsy2https://www.blogger.com/profile/05297905288843331074noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15524211.post-13206579441092901012015-09-10T13:43:15.209-05:002015-09-10T13:43:15.209-05:00I like being thinky. Sometimes it's hard to fi...I like being thinky. Sometimes it's hard to find a space for it when there are kids clamoring - always clamoring - for something. And husbands - they need attention, too. And soon your mind ends up noisy and tangled.Bad Alicehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09589572246042881069noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15524211.post-18741818461680095432015-09-04T18:04:07.526-05:002015-09-04T18:04:07.526-05:00"he considered this giving us each independen..."he considered this giving us each independence but basically it was his excuse to ignore them in favor of his own, which I enjoyed well enough myself. I just ignored my own." I have never not one time made this connection. I do this. I'm doing this even now, in my marriage. I forget my own thing because it's easier to do the thing we both will enjoy than to expect some modicum of sacrifice from someone who won't enjoy what I would prefer to be doing. Plus it takes the joy right out of the thing I would prefer to be doing; knowing that the person sharing it with me was not enjoying it, too. I live downstairs, mostly. Doing my own thing by myself; hubs and Lil upstairs being carefree and light. I'm very heavy. So much more than I mean to be. I want religion to take it's mask off and call itself power and greed and control. I can't respect any of it. But I love mysticism. And I love the idea, too. I never needed a God. I did, briefly, need a Goddess. I find myself coming back to the idea of Her more and more since becoming a mother. Hmmm... this post triggered something in my core, friend. You flipped a switch and now I'm all thinky! Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15524211.post-19246415096608268922015-09-04T10:47:40.653-05:002015-09-04T10:47:40.653-05:00I can't be traditionally religious. It goes ag...I can't be traditionally religious. It goes against my nature. But there is something beautiful about mysticism and some of the older liturgical traditions.Bad Alicehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09589572246042881069noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15524211.post-87652760615963223322015-09-04T10:46:34.503-05:002015-09-04T10:46:34.503-05:00Aww, thanks.Aww, thanks.Bad Alicehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09589572246042881069noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15524211.post-52438443025321825072015-09-04T08:55:42.540-05:002015-09-04T08:55:42.540-05:00God gives birth to the world. Much better than God...God gives birth to the world. Much better than God gives the world a good talking to and then smites it.Bad Alicehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09589572246042881069noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15524211.post-51971588617169647462015-09-04T08:53:45.378-05:002015-09-04T08:53:45.378-05:00Not understandable. Yep. I grew up Southern Baptis...Not understandable. Yep. I grew up Southern Baptist, sorta. My mom was Southern Baptist but didn't like being around them much. My dad didn't like the whole concept of God until later on. So when we went to church, it was me and mom going to a Southern Baptist church. By the time I was in high school, I had dropped church altogether. I also became obsessed with Brideshead Revisited, which made Catholicism look both fabulous and awful at the same time.Bad Alicehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09589572246042881069noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15524211.post-85867686078449299702015-09-03T18:18:45.447-05:002015-09-03T18:18:45.447-05:00Wow. As a former zealot with Post Traumatic Relig...Wow. As a former zealot with Post Traumatic Religion Syndrome (I joke. Sort of.), I love this post. Topics around religion usually have me clicking wildly for the back button or any link at all, but this was excellent. more cowbellhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17867825812404503048noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15524211.post-69828678056650977362015-09-03T11:00:57.939-05:002015-09-03T11:00:57.939-05:00This is a beautiful post. Beautiful.This is a beautiful post. Beautiful.Raineyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06625854449742300468noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15524211.post-33680614482401583472015-09-03T09:43:47.075-05:002015-09-03T09:43:47.075-05:00the Goddess thinks with a little nudge you could c...the Goddess thinks with a little nudge you could come around to her way of thinking.yellowdoggrannyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14906624317290990109noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15524211.post-42730015824021308882015-09-02T21:32:41.228-05:002015-09-02T21:32:41.228-05:00Ahh.. but painting a God that humans can understan...Ahh.. but painting a God that humans can understand is the cornerstone of all religion, maybe. I grew up Catholic, so the rules were quite black and white, mortal sins and venial sins, etc. Seems kind of obvious now as an adult that if there is anything more than the life we know, that it most certainly would NOT be black and white, or even understandable.jphttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16060890364833394413noreply@blogger.com