Just last weekend I asked myself a simple question,
‘ Why do I bother going to mass?’
Now, obviously I have asked myself this question before…it would be strange had I not.
This particular time it was during mass, and the priest could have said whatever the hell he wanted and I wouldn’t have heard him. He could have said ‘ Iarlaith, you’re a little sh*t,’ and I still wouldn’t have looked up.
I was lost in another world, as though I was a part of Murakami’s fantasy world, thinking to myself about this simple question.
The answer is balance.
Life is a scales with the weight of love and happiness on one side, and the weight of fear and troubles on the other.
Simple really, when my scales starts to tip ever so slightly to the wrong side, mass can help to balance my life back out again.
It’s not so much the mass, but it’s the time out. Time to be grateful and time to let go.
Time to speak to God, and time to listen to God.
Pretty obvious really. Oh well.
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