The Priest sat in his little box. The curtaion drew back and a silohette entered the box. "Confess to me your sins, child," he said.
The shadow said nothing.
"What are your sins, child?" the Priest said, slightly louder.
"I do not know Father," the boy on the other side of the partition said.
"Then why are you here?"
"I do not know," the boy replied.
"Then go back until you know what you must confess."
"But I do not know what to look for." The boy left any way, leaving the church through the darkened doorway.
"Tell me your sins," the Priest said.
"I do not know them."
"Then why are you here, daughter?"
"I do not know."
The girl followed the boy. The Priest sighed as another came forth.
"Father, please forgive me, for I have sinned," a girl's voice whispered.
"What have you done, my child?" the Priest replied.
"I love too much. I love the feelings of lust and greed. I love the pain and consequences. I love the akward silence and the clashing noise, the beating of my hear, the flow of my breath, the sun and the snow and the rain. A storm in all it's glory. I love the night and the pounding of running steps. I love the experiance of a rush and the feeling of the quiet."
"Ah." He felt relief. "You love life and it's many shadows. You are forgiven my dear."
The girl left through a doorway of light. "Thank you Father."
To solve a problem, we first address it, name it, claim it as a thing. To admit there is a problem and then seek out solution.
But what if there is nothing wrong?-- Except for what we think is wrong. Except for what we want to be wrong.