Say no to symbolism

I woke up in a Canadian cabin overlooking mountains and the ocean. We had to be out by twelve and the place needed to be cleaned thoroughly before we left, so that the next people could move right in. While cleaning up the ashes from yesterday’s fire, I thought about the symbolism of Ash Wednesday. On some level, I sort of longed for visible, tangible signs of that metanoia business. But I pressed those thoughts away from consciousness. Fuck symbolism. Fuck symbolism. I’m not doing symbolism. Ever. No symbolism. I want to be faithful for real. I want the privilege of serving God real close. I’m having none of that ashes symbolism. But I’ll have another chunk of transforming love. Anytime.

NB. I hope I'm doing a good job of sounding normal and unfazed because when the scenery looks like the picture below sounding normal is a bit of an achievement.