The Good Lord Looks After Fools & Drunks
It’s been about six months since I started writing for Held in the Heart, and from the very moment that Beth reached out to me to be a contributing author, I’ve known that I wanted to write a piece about Thoros of Myr. If you’re not familiar with Game of Thrones, then I’d first like to ask what you’ve been doing over the past eight years? What do you and your friends even talk about?
Alright so that’s unfair. Maybe you’re just not into fantasy. If you give his name a quick Wikipedia search, you’ll get the gist and be able to follow along just fine. I won’t go super deep into my almost embarrassing fandom of the whole world that is A Song of Ice and Fire.
Though he is an ancillary character in both the show and book, I’ve always felt a very strong connection to Thoros. Though a priest in the red faith, he openly questions the existence of his god, is a regular at the local brothels and from all reports appears to be a functioning alcoholic.
This is not a man that is living a godly life.
And yet, he is the first (and one of only two) people in this fictional universe that is blessed with the power to bring people back from the dead. When a much more devout follower of the faith questions him about how he is able to do this, he describes his first time raising Ser Beric Dondarrion as an act of friendship rather than faith. He didn’t say the prayer because he believed it, only because he wanted to bring back his dead friend and he couldn’t think of anything else. When the prayer actually works and his friend is revived, he rededicates himself to serving the lord of light, but it’s interesting how he goes about doing this.
He doesn’t become a more devout servant. He certainly doesn’t give up drinking. He doesn’t go out of his way to tell anyone what he has done or to convince them of the realness of the lord of light. He just keeps on doing what he was doing before he had that power.
My spiritual journey has been a lot like this. You may recall that earlier in this series, I made it a point of familiarizing you with a few of my lesser qualities. We could continue with that list, but suffice to say that I’m no saint. I’ve never been deeply concerned with rituals and dogma, though I am familiar with a few from various religions in which I’ve dabbled. I don’t particularly care if you agree with my approach to the practice and I’m not too concerned with how you go about yours. I simply share what I’ve experienced and try to give you the space to make up your own mind. I don’t think that preaching on a corner really gets us anywhere.
Instead, I like to think that I make it a point to do the little things right.
Because that’s the stuff that matters.
This morning I was at an event called DayBreaker that begins as a kundalini yoga class and rolls into a rave style dance party. The whole thing is billed as a conscious event free of drugs and alcohol where we come together to raise the vibration of the tribe, and in turn, the whole universe. This specific event hit the mark for me.
At the end of the dance party, they close out with some intentional words and way too long of a thank you list. Today the intentional words came from a motivational speaker who I have to say had some of the best dance moves I’ve ever seen. He told a story of a man from his youth that inspired him and spoke about how we as humans forget most of what happens to us in our lifetime because there just isn’t enough room. He ruminates that at the point of death, we may only remember 1% of what actually happened in the entirety of our life. Then he closed out with this thought,
“You never know what part of your 99% will make it into someone’s 1%.”
This is just an absolutely magnificent way of saying that you really have no idea how much the small stuff you do on a day to day basis can impact the people around you. It’s not about knowing the Yamas and Niyamas, the Buddha under the Bodhi tree or Christ on the cross. It’s about holding the door open for people, kind words and smiles.
And anyone can do that. There really is no excuse.
A yoga teacher that I see in passing between our classes recently commented on how zen I am and that when she gets reincarnated she wants to come back as me. A well received compliment, but damn I don’t know if that’s something to wish for. I rarely, if ever, feel saintly. Truth be told, this has been an interesting year of looking in the mirror and being unsure if I like what I see. There just seems like there is so much more that I could be doing.
I should wake up earlier so I can meditate longer.
I should stop eating meat and go plant based.
I should take a new course on yoga to become a better teacher.
I should stop drinking.
.
.
.
I should stop drinking.
In my world of yoga and spirituality, it doesn’t seem like drinking is all that appreciated. It’s tolerated for sure, but there is this feeling amongst a bunch of hippies dropping acid at a music festival that you’re the asshole with your bottle of wine. It’s not a mind-expanding drug. It doesn’t open the doors of perception and teach you about existence. It’s a downer and an enabler.
There’s also a history of alcoholism in my family.
Truthfully I haven’t seen much of it but the stories I hear are not pretty. My mom says that she got very lucky because both my sister and I are what she calls ‘good drinkers’ and in her family it’s like flipping a coin where you can only hope you end up on the right side.
I’m keenly aware of my family history. I take the first month of every year off from drinking because I don’t want to go down that path. And certain spiritual people make me question if the glass of wine I have to close out my day is somehow making me a worse person.
But not Thoros. Thoros is relatable. He hasn’t placed himself on a pedestal. He is a saint amongst sinners, and a sinner amongst saints. He has no grand delusions of being the one who defeats the enemy, ushering in a new day of peace and prosperity like other holy leaders. He doesn’t get wrapped up in the big story. He just keeps showing up to do the work that is placed in front of him. He serves the lord in his own way, booze and all. And if he hadn’t, things would be a lot colder up in Winterfell right now.
…That’s just something I’ve been sitting with.