Remembering to practice

I often explain my religion in this space, partly for clarification purposes and to redefine it for myself. 

Love is my religion. 

And it is a practice. I have to continually turn toward it. One doesn’t necessarily think of love while studying for a psych test, standing in line at the DMV, or driving in traffic.  In fact, at these times, it’s often the last thing I turn toward. However it is my goal to do this for everyone who comes into my path and to consciously choose it every minute of my life.

Yesterday, I was studying at my local neighborhood McDonald’s and a man stared at me fairly continuously while he was there. He came to the trash can nearest me and made a lot of noise. It’s rather astonishing how loud one can be while throwing away trash. I could not find any love for this man. He was grotesque in appearance. I almost rarely say such a thing: being a portrait artist, I find beauty in most faces. I was offended by his intrusion. It seemed selfish to me. At some point, I asked myself what the issue was and I had to honestly admit, had he been physically attractive, I would not have been so offended. Perhaps not at all. Then I concluded, he and I were both equal parts shallow. He was staring at me based on my appearance, he wanted my attention. I was ignoring him based on his. 

A woman can not go through her life without men intruding, sometimes quite aggressively, into her field of vision, into her auditory space, sometimes blocking her path to proceed. And one day while she’s studying at a McDonald’s, a poor fool thinks he can hit on her by passively aggressively staring at her and he gets a shot of the disgust reserved for all those fools before him. 

Hell, for all I know this is how he met his last girlfriend. 

Poor guy. He just wanted my attention and I was not practicing love. 

I have so much work to do. 

Namaste, my friends.

Love,

Pamela

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About PamelaDevine

Pamela Devine is a singer songwriter, fine artist, and filmmaker. View all posts by PamelaDevine

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