Ashes, ashes, we all fall down...

Day 1 of Lent.

Last night I dyed my hair. It turned out not-so-great (think my mom bright--which, to be fair, I suppose is fine for a 22 year-old, as opposed to a 55 year-old--I'm still wearing a hat all day until I can shampoo the hell out of it and make it fade a bit). So I physically changed my appearance. I made the mental connection that this is what Elizabeth I did to be reborn The Virgin Queen. As am I, for the next 40 days and 40 nights (and probably longer, since unless I meet someone in the meantime, I'll be entering a dry spell anyway).

I took a extremely hot shower. This is the cleansing of the flesh. It turned into a whole ritual for me. I'm big on ritual currently. Ritual and Quotes. My Memoir: The Quotable Ritual. That, and the shower felt amazing.

Conor's reaction to my decision:
"You've been doing that for 22 years!"

No, just because I wasn't having sex sex, doesn't mean that I wasn't sexually active for all that time, in some form or fashion. In many forms and fashions, in fact.

I try to explain my theory of being able to appreciate other forms of sensuality that don't involve nakedness and whatnot. To see what happens when all that sexual energy I possess can't be channeled in the way I'm used to. Lord knows I expend so much time and energy on such pursuits, I'll probably be able to move objects with my mind by the end of this.

He comes around to my side of things.

But with a laugh,
"I bet you'll be dry humping my leg by the end of the week."

Devon's reaction:
"That's silly."

I try to explain it to him, but I think I did a better job with Conor. Devon thought the drinking idea was better. I try to explain how it encompasses both. And then I made a mental note to do the drinking one next year, and smoking the next. If I'm going to do it, I gotta make it hurt.

Whenever a new company joins the Stock Exchange, they bring free stuff. This morning they brought roses. I have three beautiful yellow roses at my desk right now and I feel like Miss America. Or a stripper. I haven't decided.

But I digress from my point (something I realize I do quite frequently when writing these entries).

And then Vanessa, my supervisor, asked if I wanted to go get ashed (I don't know if that's the proper term, it probably isn't). At first I said no, and then I thought, why not? I'm doing Lent, a Catholic tradition, and while not being Catholic, I imagine it fit into my whole idea of ritual. Not to mention, it's something I've never done before. I haven't been in a church for religious purposes for 6 or 7 years, but I've never done anything Catholic.

So I said yes.

"What are you giving up?" Vanessa asked.

"Men." (the simplest answer I could muster-I didn't feel like explaining-the groping and the kissing and the toys and on the rare occasion, women as well)

She laughs.

Trinity Church is lovely. It's a beautiful cathedral right smack in the middle of the Financial District. I wonder if it's sacrilege to do this when I'm not really Catholic, nor Christian, but I'm embracing Lent with a believer's heart, so I imagine I'm alright. Plus, if God's being judgy today, he's got a lot more to choose from of stuff to be pissed at me about.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do as I go up to the priest. Is there a prayer I'm supposed to say? Do I answer them somehow? I walk up nervously and remove my hat.

A smile. Apparently, my nerves are obvious.

A kindly figure leans over, puts the cross on my forehead and says in a peaceful voice,

"Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."

I like that.

I mutter "Amen" under my breath and slowly walk out of the church, trying to take in the sites and sounds and prayers that are swirling around this space.

I went into the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror, with this mark that lies on the top of my forehead. It's sealed. I look odd. I'm marked. Especially odd because I'm marked as something that I am not actually, but it has put me in the company of a group of people experiencing something sacred. That's alright with me, I suppose.

Maybe I'm not ruled enough by the flesh for this to be a really cleansing experience, but I have a feeling I might learn a thing or two in the process.

We'll see.