Ash Wednesday. Blrg.

Today is Ash Wednesday. The first day of Lent.

I love Lent. It is such an enriching time full of quite moments of prayer, deep self sacrifice, and epic growths in holiness.

I look forward to it every year.

...................Hmmm......Nope.

Absolutely not.

In no way shape or form is this true.

In fact, I hate Lent and usually begin to dread it the day after Christmas, with ever growing hiccups of despair as the calendar creeps forward to the day when I am supposed to get ashes slapped on my forehead and wear them proudly until I *accidentally* but very vigorously scrub them off.

I suppose it's good that I don't like Lent. I am not sure one is actually supposed to enjoy a season of penance and being better-than-normal. That would kind of defeat the purpose.

The thing about Lent is, that simply as a side effect of "giving something up" or trying to attend Mass more, or adding in a few extra prayers here and there, one pays a little more attention to the spiritual side of one's life. And there is the rub.

I don't know about you, but I usually end up wanting to throw the towel in after about a week. Being extra holy becomes too hard. The deep black crevices in my spiritual life open themselves up and swallow me, leaving me no choice but to acknowledge the inevitability of a disturbingly long time in Purgatorio.

Lent this year promises to be nothing different. In fact, it might promise to be something worse.

Oh yes. Already. Before the close of the first day. Failure.

Instead of "giving something up," I decided I would, for the whole of Lent, work on being nicer and more charitable to everyone around me. Maybe work on Patience a little. I saw visions of myself walking around on a cloud of sweetness and light, spreading joy and happiness with each serene glance and graceful gesture that I bestowed on the minions around me.

I was dressed in flowing white, with perfectly styled hair and glistening skin....

Oh wait. Back to my goodness.

I woke up, dressed NOT in flowing white, with hair that looked as if it was an extra large fur ball regurgitated by an obese cat, and skin that desperately needs professional intervention.

To be fair, looking like that, I didn't really have a choice to be anything more or less than a complete bitch. It took precisely fifteen minutes and twenty five seconds for me to bite off, with rabid glee and complete satisfaction, the heads of every single person around me and possibly make them wish that I had never been born. Or, more terribly, that they had never been born.

And then I decided to go to an Ashram because, really, if one religion doesn't work why not try another? Am I right?

Now, at the close of the day, I have come to a conclusion, because there is no other conclusion - that doesn't inspire utter despair - which I can come to.

To enmesh myself in a cliche: What matters is that I get back up. What matters is that I keep trying. What matters is that I face the reality of myself and know that I tend towards head biting and soul crushing. YES - I will try hard NOT to be that way, HOWEVER... let's be honest - very often I WILL succumb to my true self. Just because I keep tripping, doesn't mean I should stop walking. Even if I fall flat on my face, I should get back up. Who wants to stare at concrete? Or have sidewalk bugs crawl up your nose?

So here I am, trying to be nice, inclined to be mean, full of failure, but intending to keep trying. And I have Forty Days to focus in on that.

Lent was MADE for people like me.

And maybe even for you too ;)