Healing Script part 5: Surrender

Religious statue, parish church, Syrian Desert.

The priest walked passed on his way out.
“How's your belly?” he asked loudly.
There was nothing wrong with my belly, but that didn't matter,
He knew I was unwell and he was looking for an opening line.
I accepted.
I gestured 'so-so' with my hands,
Accompanied by a 'so-so' facial expression.

He sat down for a chat.
I began to listen to someone else instead of my inner critic.
He had broken through my endless cycle of ego defenses.

“Do you have a family, the priest asked?”
Inner critic decided to put the priest to the test.
An ultimate test of acceptance,
To see if I could just be me
Here in this religious bastion,
Which I wanted to be ‘home’

“I don’t have a family, I am gay”, I said.
A sentence not said out loud in a Syrian orthodox monastery.
Anxiously I waited for a reply.
Could he accept,
Then inner critic would be defeated instantly
And forced to withdraw everything it said.
Could he not,
Then I would be forced to wander further
Searching for another home.
He did not blink an eye
And skillfully came up with an empathetic question,
Demonstrating his genuine acceptance.

I no longer had an excuse to cling to my script of lonely disconnection.
I no longer needed to criticise the celibate, religious them
To justify the queer spiritual me.
I could now let go,
Appreciate them,
This sacred space,
Feel at home for as long as needed,
Come out of my dark corner,
Totally surrender.