It was a perfectly
gorgeous sunny summer day and I was lounging by the pool at my
friend's house as I did every Tuesday. I would paint my nails, we
would read tarot for one another and spend the day relaxing and
laughing as we sunned ourselves and chewed the fat. Like good friends
do, we shared our deepest thoughts and feelings openly and frankly.
I do not remember what it
was that we were talking about, but I do remember lowering my voice
as I shared this deeply serious bit of information about my
particular circumstance at the time. I remember having tears in my
eyes as I sipped my Mojito and rolled my Yahtzee turn. I was pretty
broken up about something. I tend to hold onto painful stuff and stew
in it. (Working on that currently!)
And then he said it:
“Let go and let god...”
“...Zilla?”
I replied.
To which we exploded in
laughter over for quite a stretch of time.
B and I are like brother
and sister. We share a sincere nature appreciation and both have
green thumbs, we parallel in our pagan sentiments, have intense
passion for cooking and are mega-crafty when we get together.
B is my brother from
another mother, and I am his sister from a different mister.
So when he told me to let
go and let god, it was tongue-in-cheek to the nth degree.
Comic irony at it's best. I love him for his humor.
Godzilla loves to dance.
When the giggles settled
down, after we had told one another to let go and let Godzilla like a
hundred times, without spitting out our bevies through our nostrils,
I got to thinking about how much I love my new statement.
Apparently, I was holding
onto something I could not control. Whatever the greased pig
in my life was at the time, I needed to let go of it- badly! I
decided that I would adopt Godzilla to represent my
higher power, my Universal all-knower, my Zeus, my Allah, my Buddha,
my flying spaghetti monster, etc.
Godzilla would be my
go-to guy!
After all, Godzilla is
pretty omnipotent in his movies, and he reacts to the way people mess
with the Earth due to human ignorance with rage and destruction. He
can crush cities or grant them mercy. He can fight other titan-like
creatures without fear whatsoever. I liked Godzilla as an icon of
dharma more and more as I thought about it.
After I left B's house, I
went to the closest toy store and purchased a plastic Godzilla
figure. I drove us home and set him on my nightstand. I told him my
problems and concerns as I would do to a person I trusted, whose
opinion I respect, as if he could help. Then I sewed him a messenger
bag. I wrote out a heart-felt letter [for him to relay to the heavens
on my behalf] and folded it up very tiny so it would fit in his bag.
Then I went to bed and slept like a log.
I keep Godzilla on a high
shelf in my bedroom, so I may see him from any perspective. His
toothy grin makes me smile. I love how a silly film character can
morph into something that represents something completely different
and more evolved than intended.
Go Go Godzilla!
