Tending The Dead, Part II

I had seen the error of my ways.

"In life, if you are not growing then you are dying. It's either one or the other with no in between. And I ask you: is there ever a reason why we cannot grow? Never, I say! Never!"

My audience erupted with great applause. I was the new "it" politician, the flavor of the month - hoping to last much longer. I had a firm grasp of the situation and spoke my mind. My diagnosis was spot on and my solutions inarguable.

"We must let go of the past and embrace the future. If not, we'll be led down the garden path to doom. Our hopes and dreams will die, leaving us only to tend the dead."

I knew of what I spoke. My garden is dead. Who am I to speak of life? But no one seemed to notice and I got the love and approval I craved - coin of the realm to us politicos. I had read once that politics is what happens when you stop running your own life and start trying to run everyone else's. I knew it was wrong but I couldn't stop myself. When the applause stopped I was thrown back into the pit of unbearable emptiness. That I could not stand.

"Life stands before us with open arms. Are we to embrace it or fall to our forever ruin? This is not a joke or a game. This is life and death. Love is the future and love is all there is!"

Another applause line. It's true that only love exists and what we see in our daily lives is the insanity of blocking it or perverting its course. But like a tree that blocks water or diverts it away, that can only happen for a time then never again. The dead flowers in my garden can testify to that.

I fear this political journey will not end well. The only way I can keep it alive is with ever greater ambition. After I reach the top I'm finished. On this perverted path I travel I decry every sin I commit, the morality of self-hate. That does well on the campaign.

But what happens when I see those who actually do what I espouse? I hate them. I'm filled with a raging burning envy. They must die! Afterwards, in sobriety, I wonder what kind of monster I really am.

Salvation. Where can it be found? This thought is my constant companion. What do I want? I want to come clean. I wish to tell every believer I'm a fraud whose garden is dead. That my heart is broken. That I betrayed my soul and should keep my ever-loving mouth shut. But if I do that I'll never get elected - and I've already publicly declared myself good.

Everything is the opposite of what is, isn't it? The dead declare the need for life and the living need declare nothing. What law can I pass that will save me? What election can I win that proves I'm a good man? People look at the world around them and say something must done. No doubt. But that something is to heal yourself. To find a way to like yourself after you've let everything you love die.