How do you mount your deities? How do you give proper reverence? With what sort of wild astonishment do you bow and breathe? I don't really believe in churches, in guilt and shame and forsaking your identity to some scowling judge, in staring up at a horrific image of a bloody body nailed to a stick, full of sin and shame, taught that I can never actually attain sacredness. Why such horror and fear? Why not just dance?
But to attempt a wild, drunken, conscious, devout seeking-out of the sacred in all things in all moments? To destroy illusion and defeat ignorance? Full of consciousness in every breath, smile, song, handshake, lick, suck, touch, word, column, eyeblink, cocktail, dreamstate, marriage, divorce, wound, ecstasy, trauma, death? That I can do. Or rather, that I can strive for, breathe toward, wink at. After all, the gods, they just love to wink back.
from Mark Morford, SF Gate