If You Want to Build Something, Start in the Basement

It’s been awhile since I’ve written anything on this website and hard to believe the months passing by with life moving full speed ahead and me with a laundry list of projects and todos that continues to grow despite my efforts to chip away at the tasks. I heard someone give a speech once about writing and they said, “you have to write a really bad rough draft”. I suppose this is my rough draft. This is my attempt at putting something out into the world, unrefined. I don’t exactly know what I am writing about. But, I do know that I want to somehow help create a bridge for people so they can move off the lonely islands that so many of us inhabit in the modern world. I want to bridge the gap between science and religion. Create an arc between meaning and banality. The best way I have come up with to complete this monumental task before me, is to try and construct a house. This metaphor is inherently structural and that is the point. I want to help architect a structure within the human soul that brings us back to a world of wonder and amazement. Essentially, I want to build a church within us that serves as a safety net and orienting reflex when we feel lost, hopeless, afraid, or unsure of ourselves. It’s not a dogmatic church like you might expect. At least I hope it won’t be. That’s not my goal anyways. I see the dogmatic church as potentially part of the problem and part of the solution. The dissolution of the dogmatic church could lay the groundwork for a participatory, explorative church in which the door is always open. A place where the structure itself is alive and receptive to new ideas and assimilations. Where the strength of the joints is based upon their flexibility.

I’m starting in the basement. Right now. This is the rough draft. These are the chalk lines. The stakes with string attached giving a sort of outline of what to expect in the future. This is the “X marks the spot” on where to dig. The thoughts arising in me and moving through my synapsis down to my finger tips crescendoing as they engage the mechanical switches of the keys creating letters forming words, sentences, and paragraphs. Structure. I have a shovel and I want you to pick one up too. This work will not be easy. Your hands are likely to get sore with blisters. Your muscles will fatigue at times as we labor down into the dirt, excavating what lies beneath the surface so we can sort through what belongs and what doesn’t belong. Itemize what we have hidden in the soil we walk on everyday believing that it supports us and guides us as people desperately crave something greater than themselves. A living mana to hold them when they are tired and weary. As we dig we will invigorate and enlighten ourselves breathing new life into a culture on life support. We will sort through our collective psyche and uncover what our souls are carrying deep down below and learn of why we are tired, lost, and disconnected.

Thank you,

The Relative Merchant