On my 37th birthday

I just turned 37 last week and truth be told, for the first time in my life, I felt I really grew up.

I admit that at each birthday, I can see things that changed in me.  My appearance, my voice, the fact that I moved from year to year to different levels of education... I had celebrated my birthdays in weirdest places, often hung-over by new year revelry, or just at home, or in my apartment, or in my seminary room, or in front of the computer answering emails and private messages.  Last week, I was just in my room, almost two years as a priest, who before Christmas was in one of the most beautiful cities I've ever been, and, as always, since my participation in Facebook, looking over the messages of many people, most of whom, I only met once somewhere in my past and now, our only interaction is the rare "likes" we give at each other's posts.

But as I said, suddenly, I felt that I had grown up.

It might sound a bit late, especially for a 37 year old, to say these thing, but frankly, I have no excuse whatsoever.  All I knew is that the world around me has suddenly changed and I felt its weight bearing on my soul.  I no longer doubt the power of hushed prayer and the importance of silence while looking at the window with a cup of cheap tea.  I give more respect to the written and spoken words and bow down to appreciate the lyric touch they give in my adult life, but more importantly, I realised that I have a new friend, wordlessness, an ominous being that loomed over me as a ghost, but now, she holds my hands with such warmth, that I am assured that it is her that I need, here and now.

As I turned 37, I have learned to lay down my imaginary sword and surrender to my long-time enemies, uncertainty and subtlety. And while they leered in delight to my defeat, I somehow feel that I earned their respect and will one day be there with me on the streets, offering me cigarettes or helping me with my groceries or picking up my fallen ego from the floor.

As a 37 year old, I am confident that I've grown wiser, more cynical, more dark, more compassionate, more nuanced, more adventurous, more careful.  At 37, I am now much closer to knowing who is the real me.

Here's another free verse, during the time the parishioners gathered to reflect on the letter of our local bishop:

We read the letter, but our hearts drummed hard
on the questions that seemed not to rhyme
with the superlative generalities
that rose and fell like a heaving chest,
short of air, peppered with nominal gasps in risk
of reducing the Word into something proverbial,
or painfully parochial. We pulled our vests,
in a church that is becoming more and more
Cold.  Hope is the word
we all desperately want to touch and hold.