Naked and ashamed

Naked and ashamed

I have to hide behind busy-ness to avoid shameful castigation.

I'm wearing fig leaves.

I'm more motivated by the creature's murmurs of displeasure than I am by the Creator's whispers of love.

I'm busy with nothing good. But busy-ness is the preferred apparel in these parts.

The presence of busy-ness provokes a blessing on the basis of presumption, as lively activity pretends the activity of life.

Perhaps I won't be seen; perhaps a moving target is a harder target.

No, there is no sanctuary from the beasts here, in the shadows among the fig trees. Busy leaves still break beneath their biting and their bashing. Fig leaves fall; the face falls and fails together with them.

I might as well be naked. 
Better uncovered in the light than undone in the dark.
Better disgracefully naked than covered in disgust.
Better to be seen and seized... 
Than busy to death between the trees.

‭‭But the Lord God called to the man and said to him, “Where are you?" And he said, “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid myself.”