Wednesday, February 11, 2004

The Answer's In The Bag



So, these last couple of weeks have just been a big, steaming pile. Everything has been going wrong in a big way. And although I knew it was coming, when I got a certain sign, there was nothing I could do about it. Well, before I get ahead of myself, a little background..



I used to go to church every Sunday, for years, back when the ex-roommate and I were tight. She was extremely involved in church life, to the point of overkill if you ask me, and I often found myself volunteered to help her with this or that event there. Not that I always minded, because there were a lot of nice people there, and I was enjoying the sense of community I was getting from attending these events. Not to mention that it was a nice bonding ritual that she and I shared, and I guess in a lot of ways my participation there was quite largely tied in with her intense desire to fit in somewhere, and find her niche in life.



I felt at home in the dark, wooden and plaster church. I actually looked forward to the sermons, and our discussions of the pertinent points of them and the gospel reading for the day. And the leader of the church was one of the nicest men you would want to meet, and was an incredible support to me during a family crisis. But I as soon as the rift between my friend and I blew us apart, so went my attachment to that church.



Once I got out of the habit of spending enforced "God time" every week, I found myself spending less and less time praying. It's not that I gave up thinking deeply about spiritual issues, or I never asked God to intercede when things were going badly, but I came to a sharp realization. If God has a plan, then what good does it do to pray to God for this, that or the other thing? It's not a matter of His mercy, it's a matter of what He already knows He wants and/or has to do, and no amount of mortal muttering is going to alter that. It is a futile exercise, or perhaps just a method of soothing ourselves, even though the end result is going to be the same, whether we had prayed on it or not. So what is the point of it then?



Since I came to this epiphany, I have actually felt a little bit more at peace. Back when I thought that my prayers might have some kind of effect on The Big Guy, I could not for the life of me understand why things still went so sour. Perhaps I wasn't good enough, or praying hard enough. It must be due to some defect in me, or my prayers would be answered. What ego-driven nonsense that all is! It was so freeing to turn around and say, "You know, this isn't up to me! I am NOT in charge, and nothing I say or do is going to change that." I don't remember having an exact moment when this came to me, but the sense of relief was immense.



As a result, I've come to believe that all you can do in this life is do your best, be the best possible person you can, and deal with the problems as they come. Be kind to others, be prudent but remember to enjoy life and have fun, and basically just be a good citizen of the planet. This is not to say that I no longer believe in a higher power, or that I don't still identify myself as a member of my old church, but I have to admit that I have come to look at some of its teachings as suspect, so I guess I'm a member in bad standing.



The point of this all was not to get into a deep, theological discussion, for which I freely admit I would be ill-equipped, and I have no desire to have Bible passages lobbed in my general direction by any zealot bent on changing my opinion. Spare me. This was actually a long way to go to get around to a rather ridiculous story, and was meant as background to show why I found the moment meaningful, albeit in a darkly comical way.



Things had been going alright with life, even though there were storm clouds on the horizon: Work was gearing up towards an incredibly busy period full of major stress, J's Mom was scheduled to have a fairly serious surgery, and my brother's wife was out of the country for several weeks, during which time he was starting a new position at work. Stress from within, stress from without. None of it seemed unmanageable, if we just had a bit of luck on our sides.



Since I don't officially pray about my issues any more, I guess you would say that I spend time thinking, analyzing and yes, worrying about the issues in my life, and looking for patterns or clues as to what is the best course of action, or if the universe is trying to give us some kind of sign which way things are going to go. I was involved in one of these brainstorming sessions in the car on the way to work, when I stopped behind a hatchback-type of car at a red light.



I was distracted from my reverie by a large black dog in the back window, who was wagging his tail excitedly and looking right at me. I kind of smiled to myself, and as a private joke I thought, "Oh, what a great omen that is. Look at how happy that doggie is to be out in the car with his humans, just enjoying life. See, life is good, and all these things I am worrying about will turn out just fine! Silly me, all will turn out well!" The dog seemed to wag and drool in happy unison with my thoughts.



It was then that my attention was caught by the green bag. There was a green plastic bag, like the one they might wrap your newspaper in before tossing it onto the end of the driveway, hanging on the back of the car. The top of the bag was neatly tucked under the rear window wiper, and it was clearly holding a small pile of something dark.



I looked at the bag. I looked back at the dog.



It suddenly became all too clear which one was really the sign from the universe, and which way things were going to be going for a while.



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