Chapter 2: The Lust That Got Me Out

I am very weary of my own self-righteousness. It annoys the hell out of me and everyone else. And I can’t seem to get the balance right.

For one, it doesn’t make any sense. I have no actual right to be self-righteous. I am the sinner of sinners. I can't seem to rid myself of a certain moral superiority and self-righteousness all mixed like paint with sin. Sin is blue. Martyrdom is yellow. And maybe what I am is a whole lot of green.

I don’t know if I believe in the concept of sin. I think the working definition of sin from most major religions is total bullshit. It’s too caught up in dogma and a perverse relationship with the body. What we call sin feels like a checklist that has no respect for the individual story and context of the sinner. It’s a one-size-fits-all model for a world population chock full of different sizes, makes and models. What we call sin seems born of a lack of understanding of whatever is different from us, combined with a need to control and dominate ourselves and others in order to feel safe. 

The way I define sin is different. To me, sin is simply acting against a felt truth. I call this sin because I have experienced and watched the way this action eats light. And what is evil, really, other than the force that consumes the light? This force is different than shadow, which exists in relationship to, and inseparable from, light. 

I have lived this way. I have lived in sin. I have moved in the opposite direction of my felt truths and when I did, I barely escaped with my light in tact.

When we live in sin—as in, when we choose a life for ourselves that is made up of decisions that run counter to our own desires, beliefs, dreams and true self—the inky water coming for your light doesn’t begin to rise right away. Rather, it begins to seep. It comes in through the cracks of your life, imperceptible at first. Not even enough to make a puddle on the floor. But in its opaque, inky way, it is already making an effort to absorb your light—to suck it from the places in your marrow and trap some of its sheen within the black that is outside, wanting to overcome you.

Not only this, if you continue to live and act against your truth, the inky water will rise. It will do more than absorb the reflection of your light then. It will block you from absorbing any new light. It will trap you in your steps as if you are a stuck star. You will not continue on your intended path of evolution. You will not become the person you are meant to be, because that person requires truth, and you are stuck in an illusion. Illusions are prison for the soul. But the soul will not abandon you. The soul won’t quit. The soul may get quiet for awhile. The soul may retreat to a place where she is enriching herself and gathering strength. The soul, because she speaks the language of God and Spirit, like God, will find the language to speak to you in a way that you can hear. 

My soul spoke to me with desire. 

My soul put want back into my body. And the want grew louder and louder. The want grew so loud that I had to listen. I stopped being able to think about or focus on anything else. I could not lie any longer with my life choices. My body came alive with pumping blood and lust and begged me to begin listening. 

I hadn’t had a fully satisfied sexual urge since before I got married. As soon as I said my vows, as soon as I told myself the lie of committing to a relationship that felt like imprisonment to me, my body stopped responding. My desire went dark. I wanted to enjoy sex with my husband, but I did not enjoy it. I wanted to want him. But I could not.