I am reaching that stage in life where death is becoming a remote possibility.
Like it or not, the time has come to decide what to do about it. Maybe it’s time for a spiritual rethink?
I was raised by a mother who had been a Church of England but converted to Catholicism, and a father who was a practising Catholic but was hiding a devout Agnosticism underneath that Catholic exterior. I think he only went to church to keep my mother happy. As a result, as soon as I was able to think for myself, I decided to abandon a childhood of confused spirituality.
Maybe it’s time to nail my colours to the mast? Can’t be too careful?
I suppose I could go back to Catholicism, but they seem to think that anything pleasurable is a mortal sin. I get enough of that from the Nanny State so that’s definitely out.
There is Scientology, but that has Tom Cruise in it so that’s out.
Seventh Day Adventists? Do I want to spend the rest of my days getting doors slammed in my face? Nah!
I could become a Muslim, as I already have a beard, but I might end up in that part where I would have to blow myself up. I know there is a promise of seventy virgins waiting for me but suppose they all look like Angela Merkel? I’m not taking that chance.
Judaism is out. I’m not letting anyone mess with my todger.
I’m not that partial to porridge so Quakerism is out.
I can’t become an Amish as I would miss the old Interwebs, and anyway I have a car.
Buddhism sounds nice. I can spend my days just sitting on top of a mountain contemplating life? I do that most days anyway, though I’m not too sure about wearing an orange sheet [and only an orange sheet]. It can get quite nippy in the valleys.
Maybe I’ll just start my own religion. Devotion would consist of drinking mugs of tea [and Guinness in the evenings] and puffing on a pipe.
Now that I could live with.
And die for.