rue-madame's Diaryland
Diary
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Prayer
I am working on another Top-Secret project, this time with a yogi. She�s got some smart ideas and she�s super motivated. I�m psyched because I think her concept is clever, her dream is big (like, Target/WalMart big) and she�s enthusiastic. I had a meeting with her yesterday, and before she ate her food, she bowed towards it, closed her eyes and, I think, said some kind of prayer or blessing. Then she dug in like it was her last meal on earth. It made me smile. When I was a kid, we went to church every Sunday, but we never said grace before we ate. The closest I ever came to �grace� was in France, when my grandmother and my aunt would wordlessly bless the bread before slicing it, by drawing a cross on the bottom of the loaf with a knife. I liked the scraping sound. I had one friend growing up who was hyperCatholic. Her father had studied to become a priest until he met and fell in love with her mother. That�s the story, anyway. How he went from near priesthood to becoming the president of the BNP in San Francisco I never figured out. Anyway, he was severe looking and kind of freaked me out, but he was like a ghost. I didn�t see him much. He attended services every single day at 6 am, except on Sundays when he would go to mass with the rest of the family. I would spend entire weekends with Pascale, from Friday afternoon to Monday morning, and it was always like one long dream for me. The reverie would begin with a chauffeur picking us up from school, and depositing us in Hillsborough, a wealthy suburb of SF with good weather. We�d swim in the pool, go ice skating, see movies, and play the entire time. I don�t remember ever doing a chore, or a dish, or being yelled at or punished. It was incredible. On Monday mornings, her father would drive us to school and we would recite Notre P�re before getting out of the car. At the time, I was totally disinterested in my catechism classes (and was on the verge of being expelled from the Confirmation prep,) but loved the ritual of saying our Father in the mornings. I liked the way he led the prayer, and enjoyed the discipline and the ceremony and how it lent structure to the day. Not that I�m about to introduce religion or blessing into my life, but... I do like order.
2:58 p.m. - 2003-08-30
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