I’ve been idly contemplating the different ways to worship at the temple of Mror for all she has provided. (For those of you who don’t know, that alter is the ceramic and stainless steel bowls of feeding the soul-body.)

My colleague gravitates towards a southern evangelical style with much animation and vocalization, rather pentecostal really. At any time day or night she’ll cry out her alter call. She gets heaps of comfort and excitement from her worship. Of late she has felt such insecurity (from the construction, babies, visitors and dogs,) that she has taken often to the alter, bingeing alone. It’s the focus of her life, even to the point of the worshipping and celebration being more central than the good Mror Herself. **shaking head and scratching jaw with back paw** Ah well, we each make our choices from need. We are too lazy and selfish to do things that have no reward. Even the least redeeming looking behaviors have utility or they would have ceased to be.

For myself, I am more muslim in my pursuit of meaning. My quiet controlled prostrations coming at regular intervals through the day. Mror is constantly in me as surely as the ocean breathes steadily. I feel largely without blame as God is to ultimately blame, not me. I don’t run to the alter of make a great show.

Mror and Mror still


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