Forms of Devotion

by Diane Schoemperlen

  Forms of Devotion

  Diane Schoemperlen

  For my son, Alexander,

  who said it was too bad my books

  didn’t have pictures in them

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Title Page

  FORMS OF DEVOTION

  FIVE SMALL ROOMS (A MURDER MYSTERY)

  BODY LANGUAGE

  INNOCENT OBJECTS

  THE SPACIOUS CHAMBERS OF HER HEART

  HOW TO WRITE A SERIOUS NOVEL ABOUT LOVE

  A MATTER OF PERSPECTIVE

  HOW DEEP IS THE RIVER?

  ON LOOKING FURTHER INTO THE BODIES OF MEN

  COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS (A FAIRY TALE)

  RULES OF THUMB: AN ALPHABET OF IMPERATIVES FOR THE MODERN AGE

  SOURCES FOR ILLUSTRATIONS

  Acknowledgments

  Also By Diane Schoemperlen

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  FORMS OF DEVOTION

  Strangely enough we are all seeking a form of devotion which fits our sense of wonder.

  —J. Marks, Transition

  I. FAITH

  The faithful are everywhere. They climb into their cars each morning and drive undaunted into the day. They sail off to work, perfectly confident that they will indeed get there: on time, intact. It does not occur to them that they could just as well be broadsided by a Coca-Cola delivery truck running the red light at the corner of Johnson and Main. They do not imagine the bottles exploding, the windshield shattering, their chests collapsing, the blood spurting out of their ears. They just drive. The same route every day, stop and go, back and forth, and yes, they get there: safe and sound. In the same unremarkable manner, they get home again too. Then they start supper without ever once marveling at the fact that they have survived. It does not occur to them that the can of tuna they are using in the casserole might be tainted and they could all be dead of botulism by midnight.

  They are armed with faith. They trust, if not in God exactly, then in the steadfast notion of everyday life. They do not expect to live forever of course, but they would not be entirely surprised if they did. On a daily basis, death strikes them mostly as a calamity which befalls other people, people who are probably evil, careless, or unlucky: just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  On weekend mornings, the faithful take their children to the park and assume they will not be abducted or fondled behind the climber by a pervert in a trench coat. In the afternoons, they work in their gardens, quite confident that those tiny seeds will eventually produce more tomatoes, zucchini, and green beans than they will know what to do with. They dig in the dirt and believe in the future. They put up preserves, save for retirement, and look forward to being grandparents. After they retire, they plan to buy a motor home and travel.

  When they go to bed at night, they assume that their white houses will stay standing, their green gardens will keep growing, their pink babies will keep breathing, and the yellow sun will rise in the morning just as it always does. Many of the faithful are women, giving birth being, after all, the ultimate act of pure faith. When their sons and daughters (whose as yet embryonic faith may temporarily fail them) wake sobbing from nightmares and wail, “Mommy, I dreamed you were dead. You won’t die, will you?” these faithful mothers say, in all honesty, “Don’t worry, I won’t.” The faithful sleep soundly.

  If ever they find themselves feeling unhappy or afraid (as sometimes they do because, although faithful, they are also still human), they assume this too shall pass. They expect to be safe. They expect to be saved in the long run. They are devoted to the discharge of their daily lives. It does not occur to them that the meaning of life may be open to question.

  II. MEMORY

  Remember to put out the garbage, pick up the dry cleaning, defrost the pork chops (the ground beef, the chicken thighs, the fillet of sole). Remember to feed the dog (the cat, the hamster, the goldfish, the canary). Remember the first smile, the first step, the first crush, the first kiss. Remember the bright morning, the long hot afternoon, the quiet evening, the soft bed, gentle rain in the night. Also remember the pain, the disappointments, the humiliations, the broken hearts, and an eclectic assortment of other sorrows. Take these tragedies in stride and with dignity. Do not tear your hair out. Forgive and forget and get on with it. The faithful look back fondly.

  They are only passingly familiar with shame, guilt, torment, chaos, existentialism, and metaphysics. The consciences of the faithful are clear. They are not the ones spending millions of dollars on self-help books and exercise videos. They know they’ve done the best they could. If and when the faithful make mistakes, they know how to forgive themselves without requiring years of expensive therapy in the process.

  In the summer, remember the winter: snow sparkling in clear sunlight, children in puffy snowsuits building snowmen and sucking icicles. Remember hockey rinks, rosy cheeks, Christmas carols, wool socks, and hot chocolate with marshmallows. In the winter, remember the summer: tidy green grass beneath big blue sky, long-limbed children playing hide-and-go-seek and running through sprinklers. Remember barbecues, sailboats, flowers, strawberries, and pink lemonade. The faithful can always find something to look forward to. The faithful never confuse the future with the past.

  III. KNOWLEDGE

  The knowledge of the faithful is vast. They know how to change a tire on a deserted highway in the middle of the night without getting dirty or killed. They know how to bake a birthday cake in the shape of a bunny rabbit with gumdrop eyes and a pink peppermint nose. They know how to unplug a clogged drain with baking soda and vinegar.

  They know how to paint the hallway, refinish the hardwood floors, wallpaper the bedroom, insulate the attic, reshingle the roof, and install a new toilet. They know how to build a campfire and pitch a tent single-handedly. They know how to tune up the car, repair the furnace, and seal the storm windows to prevent those nasty and expensive winter drafts.

  They know how to prepare dinner for eight in an hour and a half for less than twenty dollars. They know how to sew, knit, crochet, and cut hair. They know how to keep themselves, their houses, their cars, and their children clean, very clean. They do not resent having to perform the domestic duties of family life. They may even enjoy doing the laundry, washing the walls, cleaning the oven, and grocery shopping. They know how to make love to the same person for twenty years without either of them getting bored. They know how to administer CPR and the Heimlich maneuver. They know how and when to have fun.

  The faithful know exactly what to say at funerals, weddings, and cocktail parties. They know when to laugh and when to cry and they never get these two expressions of emotion mixed up. The faithful know they are normal and they’re damn proud of it. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.

  IV. INNOCENCE

  The faithful are so innocent. Despite all evidence to the contrary, they believe that deep down everybody is just like them, or could be. They believe in benevolence, their own and other people’s. They think that, given half a chance, even hardened criminals and manic-depressives can change. They are willing to give everyone a second chance. For the faithful, shaking off doubt is as easy as shaking a rug.

  The faithful believe in law and order. They still look up to policemen, lawyers, teachers, doctors, and priests. They believe every word these people say. They even believe what the radio weatherman says in the forecast right after the morning news. It does not occur to them that these authority figures could be wrong, corrupt, or just plain stupid. Mind you, even the faithful are beginning to have serious reservations about politicians.

  The faithful take many miraculous things for granted. Things like skin, electricity, trees, water, fidelity, the dogged rev
olution of the earth around the sun. They believe in beauty as a birthright and surround themselves with it whenever they can. They believe in interior decorating and makeup. They never underestimate the degree of happiness to be engendered by renovating the kitchen, placing fresh-cut flowers on the table, purchasing a set of fine silver, a mink coat, a minivan, or miscellaneous precious jewels. The faithful still believe you get what you pay for.

  The faithful take things at face value. They do not search for hidden meanings or agendas. They are not skeptical, cynical, or suspicious. They are not often ironic. The faithful are the angels among us.

  V. STRENGTH

  The faithless say the faithful are fools. Obviously it must be getting more and more difficult to keep the faith these days. Read the paper. Watch the news. Wonder what the world is coming to. All things considered, it has become harder to believe than to despair.

  The faithless say the faithful are missing the point. But secretly the faithless must admit that if indeed, as they allege, there is no point (no purpose, no reason, no hope), then the faithful aren’t missing a thing.

  The faithless say the faithful are living minor lives, trivial, mundane, frivolous, blind. But secretly the faithless must envy the faithful, wondering if they themselves are simply too fainthearted for faith.

  While the faithless gaze into the abyss, fretting, moaning, and brooding, the faithful are busy getting on with their lives: laboring, rejoicing, carving Halloween pumpkins, roasting Christmas and Thanksgiving turkeys, blowing out birthday candles year after year, and kissing each other wetly at midnight on New Year’s Eve.

  No matter what, the faithful know how to persevere. They are masters of the rituals that protect them. To the faithful, despair is a foreign language which they have neither the time nor the inclination to learn. The faithful frequently sing in the shower.

  The faithful understand the value of fortitude. They carry always with them the courage of their convictions. They do not go to extremes but they could perform miracles if they had to. The faithful will not be crushed by the weight of the world. The faithful are sturdy and brave.

  VI. IMAGINATION

  The faithful have their imaginations well in hand. They do not lie awake at night imagining earthquakes, tornadoes, flash floods, or nuclear war. They do not deal in cataclysms. They do not entertain the possibility of being axed to death in their beds by a psychokiller on the loose from the psychiatric hospital on the eastern edge of town. They do not lie there wide-eyed for hours picturing malignant cells galloping through their uteruses, their intestines, their prostate glands, or their brains. To the faithful, a headache is a headache, not a brain tumor. They do not imagine themselves rotting away from the inside out. They do not have detailed sexual fantasies about the mailman, the aerobics instructor, or their children’s Grade Two teacher. The nights of the faithful are peaceful. Even their nightmares have happy endings. The faithful wake up smiling. Their subconsciouses are clear.

  Imagine perfect health, financial security, your mortgage paid off, a new car every second year. Imagine mowing the lawn on Sunday afternoon and enjoying it. Imagine raking leaves in the fall without having to contemplate the futility of daily life. Imagine your grandchildren sitting at your knee while you tell them the story of your life.

  The faithful are seldom haunted by a pesky sense of impending doom. They imagine that their lives are unfolding as they were meant to. They imagine that they are free. They imagine finding their feet planted squarely on the road to heaven. The faithful are prepared to live happily ever after.

  Imagine laughing in the face of the future.

  Imagine belonging to the fine fierce tribe of the faithful.

  VII. PRAYER

  Pray for sunshine, pray for rain. Pray for peace. Pray for an end to the suffering of the unfortunate. Pray silently in a language simple enough for a child to understand. It is not necessary to get down on your knees with your eyes closed, your hands clasped. It is not necessary to hold your breath. Pray while you are cooking dinner, doing the dishes, washing the floor, holding your sleeping child in your arms. Pray with your heart, not just your mouth.

  The faithful know how to pray to whatever gods they may worship. The faithful are praying all the time, every step of the way. Their prayers are not the sort that begin with the word Please. They do not bargain with their gods for personal favors. They do not make promises they can’t keep, to their gods or anyone else. They do not beg for money, power, easy answers, or a yellow Porsche. They do not beseech, petition, implore, solicit, entreat, adjure, or snivel. They do not throw themselves upon the unreliable mercy of the pantheon. They are not dramatic zealots. The faithful are dignified, stalwart, and patient. All things come to them who will but wait. They are committed to simply enduring in a perpetual state of grace. Their faith itself is a never-ending benediction. The faithful may or may not go to church on Sunday. Their faith is their business.

  The prayers of the faithful are mostly wordless forms of devotion. Actions speak louder than language. The faithful are reverent, humble, blessed. They are always busy having a religious experience. The faithful are seldom alarmed or afraid. The faithful barely have time to notice that all their prayers have been answered.

  VIII. ABUNDANCE

  The faithful have more than enough of everything. They are never stingy. They believe in abundance and they know how to share the wealth. They give regularly to local and international charities and to most panhandlers. They give their old clothes and toys to the poor. The faithful are always generous. Of course they can afford to be. Of course there’s more where that came from.

  Every evening at dinner the faithful cry, “More, more, let’s have some more!” The table is completely covered with heavy oval platters of meat and giant bowls of mashed potatoes and garden salad. They always have dessert. They prefer their children soft and plump. The faithful never bite off more than they can chew.

  The days of the faithful are as full as their stomachs. They have energy to burn. They never whine about having too much to do. They like to be busy. They do not need time to think. Their bounty abounds. Their homes and their hearts are always full. Full of exuberance or solemnity, whichever current circumstances may require. The cups of the faithful frequently runneth over.

  The arms of the faithful are always open. They have time for everyone. The faithful know how to share both the triumphs and the sorrows of others. They’ve always got the coffee on, blueberry muffins in the oven, a box of Kleenex handy just in case. The faithful know how to listen and they only offer advice when they’re asked.

  The faithful know how to count their blessings, even if it takes all day. They have all the time in the world. They know when to thank their lucky stars. The faithful are privileged but they are not smug.

  IX. WISDOM

  The faithful are uncommonly wise. They are indefatigably glad to be alive. To the faithful everything matters. It does not occur to them that their whole lives may well end up having been nothing but a waste of time. The faithful are always paying attention. They know how to revel in the remarkable treasures of the everyday: a pink rose blooming below the window, a ham and cheese omelet steaming on the plate, a white cat washing her face in the sun, a new baby with eyes the color of sand, a double rainbow in the western sky after a long hard rain. The faithful love rainbows and pots of gold. They know how to take pleasure wherever they can find it. The faithful are always exclaiming, “Look, look, look at that!” To the faithful nothing is mundane.

  The faithful are everywhere. See if you can spot them: in the bank lineup on Friday afternoon, at McDonald’s having hamburgers and chocolate milkshakes with their children, in the park walking the dog at seven o’clock on a January morning, at the hardware store shopping for a socket wrench and a rake. The faithful may be right in your own backyard.

  The faithful are thankful for small pleasures and small mercies.

  The faithful are earnest.

  The faithful are easil
y amused.

  The faithful do or do not know how lucky they are.

  The faithful frequently cry at parades.

  The faithful are not afraid of the dark because they have seen the light.

  Nothing is lost on the faithful. As far as they are concerned, wonders will never cease. The faithful are convinced that the best is yet to come.

  X. HOPE

  The hope of the faithful is a tonic. Their eyes are bright, their skin is clear, their hair is shiny, and their blood flows vigorously through all of their veins. Even in times of adversity, the faithful know how to take heart. At the tiniest tingle of possibility, the faithful are not afraid to get their hopes up. They believe in divine providence. It all depends on how you define divine. The faithful are not fools. Although the faithless would dispute this, the faithful live in the real world just as much as anyone. They know all about hoping against hope. But they are not troubled by paradox. They are immune to those fits of despair which can cripple and dumbfound.

  Concerning matters both big and small, the faithful have always got hope. Their whole lives are forms of perpetual devotion to the promise which hope extends. The faithful breathe hope like air, drink it like water, eat it like popcorn. Once they start, they can’t stop.

  Hope for world peace. Hope for a drop in the crime rate, shelter for the homeless, food for the hungry, rehabilitation for the deranged. Hope your son does well on his spelling test. Hope your team wins the World Series. Hope your mother does not have cancer. Hope the pork chops are not undercooked. Hope your best friend’s husband is not having an affair with his secretary. Hope you win the lottery. Hope the rain stops tomorrow. Hope this story has a happy ending.