Filed under: Nobody Loves A Thinker
This morning, on our holiday on the beaches east of Taree, I decided to stroll away from my family for a minute. I found myself savouring the sensation of treading on the crunchy salt-encrusted sand above the waterline, stepping carefully between the large Manning River pebbles that “litter” the beaches round here. I moved to different sorts of sand and hurried back to the crunchy stuff, realising that all my life I’ve loved that particular quality of sand.
I’ve been going through one of my “I am mortal” phases and the thought struck me that one day I will never again experience the crunchy sand. When I was a child and a good Catholic lad, I was expecting that after death heaven would include all the wondrous stuff that I loved during my life. There’d be reunions, perfections, the ability to do the stuff that I was afraid of, etc etc.
I wondered this morning if perhaps it was time to revisit the religion thing. Any suggestions? I need a religion that will give me eternal life including the walking on crunchy sand. I’d like to see my folks again, and quite a few other people (my year 11-12 English teacher, for example). And perhaps a few decades down the track to hug my sons again.
Mormonism is vaguely interesting. At the End Of Days, the elect rise up after everyone else has gone off, to hell I guess, or compost, and walk the earth again: all of them and the earth too in their best shape. Also they have fantastic Magic Underpants.
Buddhism maybe, but it seems a pretty smoky religion, if religion at all, and more suited to life on earth now than to the everlasting kind. I won’t go back to Catholicism, and Islam is a little extreme for me at the moment and not feminist enough.
If I can’t find a good religion, preferably one that doesn’t include a God, I’ll go to plan B. This is where, on my deathbed, I imagine that after death I’m going to see eg the folks, the wife, eventually the kids again. Instead of succumbing to the pain I will look forward to the time a few days or hours hence when I’ll be stepping between pebbles in my bare feet on salty crunchy sand on a balmy summer’s day, the holy roar of waves just down the sand, and maybe there’ll be oysters and mum’s self-saucing chocolate pudding. Later I’ll go see Tom Waits or Betty Carter or even get up on stage myself. It’ll be heaven.