Was I thinking of the government? Was I thinking of my mother's eighteen personalities? Perhaps I was considering the mere three or four pebble-sized fecal drops that are rendered after an hour of vein-popping straining? Maybe the mysterious words, "angels of sin," were inspired by the sleep-farts that my husband blasts against my leg every night: he, the angel...the ass-blastations, the sin?
I just don't know.
Truth be told, I was a different person a decade ago...different, but the same. I am the same in that I have always had a sense of humor that runs the full spectrum: from mildly dry drippings of sarcasm to inappropriately assembled satirical collages made up of overlapping (and hardly distinguishable) bits of anger, intrigue, skepticism, fear, cheer, cynicism, and good ole mockery. AND my general disposition of finding most human beings foul underlings that have recently wriggled their way out from the cosmic anus and right into the arms of meglomania is also still fully intact. A decade later, I am still desperatley trying to reconcile my heart and soul with my surroundings. So, "angels of sin" could very well have been a three-word tribute to the alluring creatures that sit on opposing shoulders, posing as my conscience's posted sentinels.
I cringe to make the angel/devil analogy here, because if life has taught me anything, it's that their stations are interchangeable; so, I have an "angel of compassion" and an "angel of sin." Both angels. Both required to help me navigate the terrain of life without completely losing my sanity.
|"I am but an angel in human form: Becoming the More that I am by contrast of the Less that I am not." -Aubree Luke|
However, as interesting as this may sound (to me, anyway), I seriously doubt that I had anything of the sort in mind when I made The List of "ingredients" over ten years ago. I just wasn't that poetic in my self-examination at the time...which serves well as a transition point into the many ways I am different after a decade of life's soft encouragements and hard shoves...
I am not the same person in a whole lot of ways - most attributed to my daily medications. The main difference is that I can tolerate a bit more dumb-assery than the me I used to be. Though I do not trust or like most people, I recognize a certain connection between us. I am also VERY different in that I am more accepting of myself and the immense amount of work that is involved as I continue to get to know me.
When I consider the short but mysterious euphemism, "angels of sin," now - in this moment - I am inclined to first consider a personal and inter-personal sort of sanctifying field trip for the soul. Are we not ANGELS of sin: beginning the trek as silent spectators, absorbing the surrounding details so as to grow in courage and shrink in resignation as we make our way to center stage? As we strive to discover what awaits us on the other side of the tight-rope to which we have already committed our forward motion...are we not Angels of Sin? With each uncertain step we teeter and cry out, but the glare from the light that blinds us to our destination somehow - ironically - gives us focus. We regain our balance and hush our profanities. And in all of this, are we not Angels of Sin: perfect in, through, and by our very imperfections within this traveling circus?
Sin, in its purest rite, does not condemn us. Sin, in form of Divine Design, teaches us through doing...and re-doing...until what's Right is no longer of subjective origin.