Michael: The Church of the Quetzal

Dawn is the alarm
That awakens the spirit
Of well slept dreamers.

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

According to Kimme, Sunday was the 34 time we’ve hiked/jogged the Quetzal trail. That’s 34 more times than I’ve been to church in the past 50 years.

Church and I did just not get along. I often felt nauseas in church. And I don’t mean an existential nausia. I wouldn’t come to experience that until college where I majored in philosophy. No, I mean a good old fashioned yellow tinted squiggly shaped nausea that interrupted whatever prayer I was suppose to be saying and forced me to sit with my head between my knees hoping that I wouldn’t pass out.

Church was my father’s thing so when my parents divorced when I was 10, service was no longer mandatory. That was a relief. It’s not that I was anti-religious at the time, but given my physical reaction to church, I just felt God didn’t want me there.

But I was raised Roman Catholic. That means in some way or another the church is always with you, particularly on Sundays.

So now the Quetzal is my church. It’s beautiful and ornate, just like I remember church use to be. And when Spanish speaking people talk to me it’s a lot like going to Latin mass. They’re trying to communicate with me, but don’t seem to be very disappointed when I don’t understand.

I will say the treats are a lot better on the trail than in church. That wafer thing the priest gave me would often stick to the roof of my mouth and, it being church and all, I couldn’t very well stick my finger in my mouth to dislodge the damned thing. And forget about asking for any of that juice the priest was drinking from that cool golden chalice to help wash down the paper dry disc.

I’m sure for many people church is a wonderful ritual that connects them to the mysteries of existence and to spiritual world they feel grateful to be a part of. That’s how I feel when I’m out on the trail .