The better part of three days this week I spent home by myself. I chatted with this unfortunate creature from beyond a back fence, as he mourned, as usual, his family's absence during the day.Even flowers abloom couldn't cheer the poor guy.
If you know me, you've noticed I can sink a tad into neediness. The self-pity engine sometimes chugs on for a bit.
Though for years I've seen more clearly the unloveliness, I haven't conquered the tendency to travel to the state of poor me. Perhaps I'll struggle with it until my final breath, but here's hoping I wipe the lenses of insight more quickly as time passes.
My time alone this week did not, though, find me howling like my little friend. I savored what felt like a vacation. Weird me, some of the neatest flights I've taken into worlds of deeper understanding and even escape, have occurred while (to quote a goose from Charlotte's Web) I've sat quietly-ietly-ietly at home.
I read, did laundry, cleaned house (some), read, cooked taco soup, watched a video, and read.
In between, new horizons of thought dawned. I recalled that I'm a creature, like the beagle out back only different. Caused to exist, and therefore valid. Is that logical? Well, if I weren't valid (and still assuming I was caused to exist), then the Causer would have eradicated the mistake that was me. Same with every other whining, howling critter. From my newly tweaked perspective, I see I tend to ask the wrong question when the unpredictable occurs (that is, most every day). My foundational views often are colored by thinking I'm supposed to prove I was meant to be, or even to prove others are intrinsically worthy of existence.
But what if that's simply a given? The Causer perhaps only created that which was planned. So, if so, then there's some other underlying query I'm supposed to formulate. I could ask, say, about the circumstances I'm experiencing. What might I be meant to learn from them, apart from any worries about my validity? Hm. Maybe something regarding another person, or morality, or my family history, or... Hey. Lotsa stuff. Whatever is being caused to happen, by this intelligent One I believe in, must be pretty intelligent.
Emotions interfere with logical proceedings, and so does my inherent rebellion against the theory that I'm not the cause of trouble, or of reality. But beyond these, at the horizon of consideration, sits this possibility: I can grapple with what's going on before me, while shedding insecurity about my validity within it.
I guess it's an old preponderance revisited, and I'm not likely making it clear. But I sure had fun gnawing on it in my own little spaces.
8 comments:
funny that my husband and I were just having a conversation on this topic this morning and then I pulled up your blog...we didn't really come to any conclusions but I do think we are on the same page as much as we can understand.
Hi Deanna,
Great comparison to the little dog and how we feel sorry for ourselves. I like how you draw from the things around you to find things to write about! Have a wonderful Easter...
Summer, it's nice to connect to any degree in our ponderings. Maybe we can discuss them further sometime. I hope you're having more fun and feeling better; I was down yesterday with a bug and still feel gunky. (Lovely, huh?)
Ruth, thanks, and may you enjoy your Easter very much as well.
Perhaps all creatures aren't meant to have a profound effect on anything, rather, just to each contribute tiny nudges to reality to help things stay somewhat on course by our collective efforts, intentional or otherwise.
And just how did you transport our cat 'Too Many' there for the photo op??
Interesting musings, Deanna. I guess I haven't ever thought about justifying the presence of myself or anyone else, but sometimes have wracked my brain trying to figure out "why" and thinking that if I just "get it" that God will let up on the difficult circumstances. But I finally came to the conclusion that since God was in the business of teaching me and causing me to grow (not just me!) that I would get what I was supposed to get and it wasn't like some cosmic puzzle I had to put an inordinate amount of effort into figuring out.
Mike, you're a down-to-earth philosopher. Thanks. Our cat's Westley, but we should've named him Garfield. He's a character. I like the name Too Many. Hm, I can guess the reason, maybe. But we love 'em, right?
Patti, you're right, I think. We get what we're supposed to get. Sometimes the cosmic puzzle is fun, but, yeah, we aren't expected to be God and know it all.
I have a confession to make... I read this post a while ago but didn't comment because I felt I was peaking in on your inner world and didn't know quite how to respond. Your thoughts are raw. (but valid!) I guess I've never pondered my validity, and I probably wouldn't do well as a philosopher as I tend to be fairly pragmatic. I'm here, things happen, deal with it however seems most appropriate and stop worrying so much. That's on my good days!
My other confession, is that I love Moby Play and used some of the songs off it in our Easter service as background for a reflective prayer we did. No old people died from the sound of Moby in church, and I loved it!
Hey, Cecily, thanks, and I hope you feel free not to comment when it's not comfortable; I appreciate, however, receiving honest feedback. I can't often articulate what compels me to comment or not (or speak or not, etc.). So you're a better philosopher there than I.
Moby, yeah! Glad I am for my kids' taste in music; this album keeps me treadmilling, and I can imagine which tunes you maybe used for Easter.
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