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Virgin Monk Boy's avatar

Debra, this was not a post—it was a spiritual compost pile, rich with soul-soaked metaphors ready to sprout enlightenment. I came for the dirt and stayed for the divine anatomy lesson.

I mean, you casually re-mapped Eden onto our nervous system and turned the aortic arch into a holy river tour—are you trying to ordain Grey’s Anatomy as sacred scripture? Because I’m here for it. Somewhere, Ezekiel just did a spit-take and Mary Magdalene whispered, “Told you so.”

Your line about shame and the serpent got me good. What if every garden exile is just a cleverly disguised invitation to replant ourselves in truth, over and over again? What if Eve didn’t fall—she volunteered for the evolutionary leap?

You’ve taken catechism, set it on fire, and planted wildflowers in the ashes. May your inner soil keep blooming with mystery.

—Virgin Monk Boy 🌱

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Rea de Miranda's avatar

I love this Debra. You put a lot of thought in this, and it makes sense.

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