I like to celebrate established holidays but I don't do it the way most people do it because I don't like to do things the way most people do things so I just take the bones of something and slide my own ideas and shit all up in it to give it some guts I can work with.

Enter Lent.
(and Yom Kippur and Christmas and Litha and a handful of others)

I missed doing anything very Fat on Tuesday, so my two co-workers and I did Wednesday Gras yesterday.  Hurricanes and hubcap sized plates of foods that are completely against our diets and morals.  We hid way back in the dark corner of the bar so Jesus couldn't find us if he tried and had an amazing time.  It's good to spend some time like that with people who know what it's like to be you from nine to five.  Because people who don't know what it's like to be you from nine to five?  Don't want to hear you bitching about work.

***

People give up the funniest things for Lent.

And lo, Jesus walked through the desert for 40 Days and 40 Nights in search of the goodness deep inside himself, moving ever closer to His Father and his goal weight of 172lbs through constant prayer and the absence of french fries and chocolate and the promise of exactly one can of Coca Cola on Saturday afternoon at sundown if he was good and did not cuss all week.  And as tradition firmly stated, steak dinners were held each Sunday in observance of the spiritual cleansing.

I love it.

My Lentil (I like to call it that) is the same every year.  I try to live and breathe and eat and buy and speak and move and do intentionally.

I try to live with intention for 40 days.  That link takes you to the Merriam definition of the word "intention".  I think it's worth a peruse.

It's hard, dudes.  Real hard.

I can eat what I want.  Provided there is a solid purpose in accordance with my philosophy for putting it in my body.
I can buy what I want.  Provided there is a solid purpose in accordance with my philosophy for spending my money.
Want chocolate?  Okay.  It's chocolate.  One piece, especially one quality piece, isn't going to kill me, make me fat, rot my teeth, spoil my dinner.  But what will it do?
Where could this money be better spent?  Saved?
Who is this money going to?  Who is the vendor?  Where will she spend her money?  Who does she hire?  Where is her shop?  What does she support?  What does her landlord support?
Who is the manufacturer?  Where do they get their ingredients?  Who do they hire?  Where do they spend their money?  What are their emissions practices?  Shipping practices?  Packaging guidelines?  Which organizations do they support?
Where is my money going?  Is it worth it?  Is my spending and gluttony breaking my moral code?  Does even 2% of my purchase support something I hate? 

I can do what I want.  As long as the end result is good and productive and in accordance with my philosophy for most people involved.
I can say what I want.  Provided there is a solid purpose that is in accordance with my philosophy for putting it in someone's ear.
I must chose my words carefully.
Say things carefully and slowly so there is less a chance that the "meaning won't be lost or misconstrued".  Paul Simon knows how to say everything better than I could possibly even begin.
Biting my tongue is difficult, as you may well imagine.  Speaking slowly and with intention does not come naturally to me.
Good thing I've resolved to read a few books these next few weeks.  I'll be (we'll all be) better off with  my nose shoved deep in there rather than poking into everyone's business, I'm sure.

I, and probably some others out there, have become so lazy and self-centered in my daily living that it's easy to just do what is quick and dirty and easy rather than what is "right" and what it is in adherence to my bizarre set of rules and virtues and standards and beliefs and traditions. 

Day one.  Keeping quiet, living simply, and trying to find beauty in every face I see.  It isn't always easy.  A laugh line as deep as the Schuykill, a complexion the color of a perfect aubergine, a scar that glistens silverpink in the sun, a kind smile on an exhausted farmer's face, surprisingly perfect teeth, Dame Edna glasses that aren't meant as a joke.