a hurricane of yuck

Last night I picked up my guitar and started noodling around with some new material (still working on Dream Theater's "Endless Sacrifice"), as well as resurrecting old favorites. This lead to me playing "Aqualung" (the song, not the whole album) and then singing my way through the entire album a cappella, even though I could have easily tossed it into the computer and given it a listen. I also relearned "Hymn 43." Now, of course, the entire album is stuck in my head and I'm reflecting on my love of the album.

Aqualung is not my favorite Jethro Tull album. It's a great album and definitely in my top five, but my favorite is a toss-up between Stand Up (the first album with Martin Barre on guitar), Benefit (the first album with John Evan on keyboards, albeit as a session musician and not full-fledged band member yet) and Thick As A Brick (the amazing 43-minutes long single-song concept album spoof of concept albums in response to the claim that Aqualung was a concept album). Really all four of these albums are from the same period, so it's no surprise I have a hard time deciding which is my favorite. Aqualung is all-around a great album, but what particularly appeals to me is how much Ian Anderson captured my feelings on organized religion on side two (the side labeled "My God" and starting with the song of the same title).

( review and analysis is behind the cut because it's long )

When I first attached to this album, I was very much like the cynical and dark narrator in "My God." My reasons were driven primarily by my confusion over my gender identity and my frustration with prayers unanswered, but also because I was tired of being scared into believing (I can tell some interesting and frightening experiences attending Baptist and Pentacostal churches and "salvation"). Regardless, I used to blindly shun organized religion with no real alternative or thought. It was a reaction out of frustration and anger. I now find myself where I feel I have transitioned spiritually into a person who has found a personal spiritual path like the narrator in "Wind Up." I go to a Unitarian Universalist fellowship regularly, though not every Sunday. I'm active in the fellowship to the extent I think I can handle. Yes, it's organized religion, but it affords me personal freedom to decide what spiritual path I want to take and when I want to show up for service or not. I've never felt pressured or guilted into attending, and I don't feel my experience is hollow or born from fear. I realize that I still have a lot of questions to ask and a lot of answers to find, but at least now I feel like I'm looking and asking rather than just sitting in a seat because I have to or else, or refusing to sit in a seat because it's futile and I'm angry about life and not being given the starting position I would have preferred.