As a devout atheist, one tree has a much higher spiritual content for me than all the temples, churches, mosques, synagogues and other human made holy guacamoles. However, my consumer trained mind sees a price tag on something and it thinks “it must be worth seeing”! That’s how I end up visiting special holy guacamoles around the world. I admit, they often have impressive architecture, interesting iconography, beautiful settings…etc. Worth visiting as a study in the diversity of human culture. Yet the common features are always the same:
1. They receive an inordinate amount of money, attention and resources.
2. Stories. They’re full of stories. Age old stories. Kept alive, often passionately so. The stories keep them alive and they keep the stories alive. Unfortunately, the stories are often taken too literally and way too seriously.
3. They conjure up a lot of fear. Fear keeps them alive and they keep fear alive. Fear of an angry God, punishment, hell… etc. In reality, it’s mostly fear of exclusion. As social animals, we have an innate need to belong. In our primitive brain, being an outcast equates to death. This may be true when we’re young and dependent on our families to survive. However, as we get older and more independent, we need to reexamine and reevaluate. Holy guacamoles scare us from doing exactly that. Irrational? For sure, but it works.
4. They comfort as well as oppress by overemphasizing the need for safety and security over passion and freedom. That’s why people flock to them when their sense of safety is at risk.
5. They don’t like women. The feminine body scares the sh!t out of holy guacamoles. You can see images of furious faces, men’s and animals naked bodies, weapons of all shapes and sizes, killing, torture, gut wrenching agonizing imagery of cruelty… that’s not scary. But a woman’s leg, bust, shoulder or even hair!!!! OMFG!! That is the end of the world as we know it. We all came from a woman’s vagina. Does that make it sacred and holy?? NOOO! That makes it the most shameful, dirtiest and despicable thing. Something that can never be shown, discussed or even mentioned in holy guacamoles.
I’d much rather touch, feel and talk about vaginas, sex and love freely without any shame or guilt. I’d much rather enjoy nature, my body and my freedom. I’d much rather question and reexamine stories and fears. Nature is my holiest holy guacamole!
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