When I was a new seminarian
I had a favorite parish priest mentor
who told me the best way to die
is while having an orgasm.
I wasn’t sure if I could ask
why he was so exclamatory sure
of his nakedly compromising position.
I did not really know him all that well,
although he seemed to be a swell up kind of Father.
Perhaps I looked a bit nervous
because he hastened to reassure me
the reason he is enamored of orgasms,
of diastatic experience,
is because they transcend our language boundaries
between Eros and Agape.
Orgasms are ecstatic climatic events,
warm full-bodied memories
of mindbody interdependence,
of holistic cooperative ecopolitics within
every organ and cell,
muscle and happy little ego-subsystem
groaning out this profoundly universal Yes!
with both LeftBrain audio-visual Eros
and RightBrain universally interdependent
neural-sensory climate of Agape.
I didn’t know what to say to this bicameral-sexual therapy.
But, if this is an option for how to die,
it does sound like the only good one I have ever heard.
So I said that.
And then my mentor suggested I go home
living that same way.
Note: To Fr. Gary Kennedy, who is not on the Catholic Church’s Great Wall of Shame, yet also not on the Church’s Great Wall of Patriarchal Wisdom, where he might more ecstatically reside. With warm gratitude.