The Fire Breathing Nun Who Stepped In Dog Doodoo

“Learn to
control your feelings or else they will control you. Learn to still your
thoughts or else you will be stilled by your thoughts.”

Imagine the typical imagine of a nun dressed
in the commonly known black and white outfit with a veil. Imagine a nun dressed
in such a way with the most angelic of faces representing everything pure,
devote and serene. Such a nun would be the epitome of discipline, reserve, self
control and worship. Nuns are so respected in many societies, even ones where Christianity
is not popular, simply because they represent something holy whether the
observer identifies with them or not.

Now imagine that same nun having the most
beastly and vivacious desires contained deep within under the holy garments,
behind the mystifying veil, deep within her very being. Imagine the most
intense human feelings, colourful memories and dreams that must be suppressed
deep down inside within her being. There is no human being that escapes these
most basic and subconscious needs otherwise I doubt there would be need for a
person to be born if not to learn how to deal with the challenges presented by the
fulfilment of these needs.

The symbol of a nun can also be a metaphor
for life for life at times seems like a battle between the force of the needs
and the application of discipline. Indeed it seems that when a person finally
decides to do something about the challenges in their life and instil a bit of
discipline to achieve these aims that is exactly when the temptations become more
intense. Think about it. When was the last time you tried to give up anything
whether it was chocolate, coffee, cigarettes, sex with shallow men or loose
women, drinking, gambling, social networking or whatever? Chances are the
second you made that decision to quit and apply discipline there was suddenly
an abundance of opportunities to do the very thing you had decided to give up.

It almost seems like the more serious you are
about your convictions and the more effort you exert in trying to follow your
aims the stronger the temptations and the more ubiquitous the undesirable. It almost
seems like the harder you try the harder the universe tries to teach you a
lesson or at least to prove you wrong. You strive, you give it your all and you
actually do quite well until you make a small mistake and then you come down
hard on yourself, forgetting the effort you have put into getting to where you
are. Then you start again and keep at it and chances are you will fall again
but the challenge is in getting up again and again and again.

At times this cycle can be so infuriating
that it makes you want to scream like a tormented banshee until you burst into
white and crimson flames that burn until there’s nothing left of you except
charred cinders. It leaves you feeling insanely incredulous like when you step
in dog doodoo. Most people know this feeling of being disturbingly wronged, embarrassed
and literally soiled all at once, which comes with stepping in dog doodoo.

It has been many years since I stepped in dog
doodoo and in fact I do not actually remember. What I do remember is how when
it happens it leaves you reeling in disgust and fury that all you want to do is
get a double edged blade, chainsaw or sulphuric acid and use it to cut off the unfortunate
appendage that happened to land in the brown matter. I don’t know if it is
worse to actually see yourself stepping into the dog doodoo or to realise after
a while that there is a putrid smell that has been following you for a while
only to discover the sordid mess under your own shoe.

Either way the smell is acrid enough to bring
horror to your face, contorting your mouth into a miserable ‘U’ shape, violently
flaring your nostrils like excited sea creatures in a coral reef, and bringing
tears to your eyes. I do not believe that people after a certain age have any
business stepping in dog doodoo, it just seems like such a child like thing to
do. There was once a time in my childhood when stepping in dog doodoo seemed as
natural and mandatory as grazed knees and not eating your vegetables. When the
days ended that I played frivolously with silly friends in the grass my dog
doodoo stepping days were officially over.

Maybe the fact that my dog doodoo stepping
days are over is a good portent for my chances in understanding the great
cycles of this life. Maybe I am becoming a great nun – metaphorically speaking
of course. Maybe, just maybe, I am growing and understanding that it is
necessary to feel like exploding when I have made an error or slipped with my
discipline, if only it is to make me more determined the next time I try. The truth
is I will never give up trying…