You may recall that I have already introduced you to Assumption, Instinct and Perception. Another prominent member of the tribe is Guilt. Those of us 'welcomed' into the Roman Catholic church learn, even before we understand the language, that it is all our fault! Every ill besetting the planet is because of something that we did (or even, something we did not do); each atrocity carried out by our ancestors is laid on the shoulders of the fragile new born to burden it with original sin and, all worldwide disasters, whether medical, meteorological or man-made, are as a result of the Vengeful God punishing us for offending His (it is always His) sensibilities. Is there any wonder so many of us want to 'dip' out of the real world?
The Magnificent Marianne Faithful recorded what could be my personal anthem: 'I feel guilt'. The lyrics go on to say that 'though I know I've done no wrong, I feel guilt...'
Guilt has been my constant companion for the last zillion years. I am pretty convinced that I did not cry out when I was born. I reckon I yelled out 'I'm sorry!'. Certainly that's exactly what I did when I came round from the gas and air after dental surgery. Guilt is so deeply ingrained into my psyche that I even apologise to lampposts if I bump into them. When the realisation kicks in that the lamppost couldn't give a flying fig whether I bumped into it or not, I then feel guilty for being so stupid! I have been known to say sorry to a wide range of animate and inanimate objects. I apologise to the corpses of road kill if I cannot avoid driving over their bodies; someone will tell me some bad news relating to them and I immediately apologise despite having no influence on the road conditions that caused their accident, or, I could not have caused the row they have just had with their boss and of course, I always apologise for the state of my cottage.
It is not always necessary to use the word 'sorry'. Feeling guilt is demonstrated effectively by body language too. Indeed one of the triggers for a street robbery is the way someone walks down the street. If you make like a Masai Warrior with a straight back and your eyes fixed on the horizon you are less likely to be mugged. Hunch your shoulders, keep your head down and avoid contact with others and you actually invite the attention of those with bad intent.
One thing I was taught was that there is no such thing as not being guilty. After my confirmation into the Roman Catholic church , I was of course, required to go to confession. Fifty years on I am still perpleplexed by the idea that a child below the age of criminal responsibility actually has anything to confess. I recall my first visit to the confessional after I had been received into the church and the kindly, disembodied voice asked me to confess my sins. I was word perfect with the opening words but I got stuck when I was asked to list my sins. I just couldn't think of a one . Nothing. Could not recall anything I had done wrong since my confirmation. So, I told the priest ' Forgive me Father for I have sinned' paused and tried to think of something I had done wrong. Silence. 'Well child?' said the priest. More silence. 'Child!' said the priest more forcefully. 'You need to seek absolution for your sins! Speak and tell me what you have done'. I mumbled something about not actually having done anything wrong since my confirmation and the confessional seemed to shake with anger! The priest was furious with me. How dare I challenge him! How dare I challenge God! How dare I insult the Virgin Mary! Of course I had sinned! All children were sinners! The priest then told me that God would deal with me directly but in the meantime my punishment was to recite 10 'Our Fathers' and 10 'Hail Marys'. I was not a stupid child. I realised that I was in mortal danger and vowed to keep an accurate record of everything I did wrong until my next visit to the confessional. The following Sunday I presented myself to the faceless voice in the darkened box once more and boy! was I prepared!!! 'Forgive me father for I have sinned' I intoned and went on to list my sins: I had had a bad thought about my brother; I had stolen a piece of raw swede, I had wanted to disobey my mother and I had forgotten to pray on Tuesday night. Phew! For that list of sins I was penalised with only 1 'Our Father' and 2 'Hail Marys'. So from then on in, if I could not think of a sin I had committed, I would invent one to keep the priest happy.
So why am I guilt free today I hear you ask? There are a million things I SHOULD have done today: cleaning, ironing, washing up, scribing (the proper version not this one), paying bills and ensuring the cottage is totally prepared for my most welcome invasion due on the 23rd of December. And what have I done instead? I have emptied out all my stocks of baubles, beads, and bubble wrap into a untidy heap on the sitting room floor. I have dressed the shrubs in the garden with angel hair and ribbons and placed stars onto trees in the hope that I can enchant my beloved grandchildren when they arrive. I have managed to install some lights and a few decorations inside but the truth is I am going to have to wait until Beloved Son and Heir comes up here to finish off for me.
Even the misplacing of my Christmas Tree has not caused me to feel guilt. I cannot find it anywhere. It is probably somewhere really safe but it is certainly not in the cottage. I thought it might be in the garage but as the door is frozen shut, I can't investigate! Ah well, something will turn up. One year I used the 4 foot dried stalks, complete with seed heads, of my fennel plant as a representation of a tree and dressed them with crocheted snowflakes. Stunning.
Right, time for me to turn on the guilt and do some chores.
Take care of yourself, and of each other
Love and peace
THE Purple Fairy xxx
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