I am loath to admit how human I think I act sometimes. Which, of course, is a ridiculous statement, in and of itself, because I am human and that should explain it all. No thinking need be involved there. I am human therefore respond to life like humans do.
But sometimes this incenses me. Because I never wanted to be human and never really felt kin to other humans. In this newer age this might brand me as an indigo child, something to be nurtured and watched over with adoration and understanding. But back when I was a boy, especially in the home I grew up in, I was just an incorrigible little brat.
So be it -- being a brat then may explain my peculiar response to life now. I don't know -- maybe yes, maybe no.
Anyway, the point of all this -- the point I was trying to convey, anyway -- is that in spite of all my perpetual attempts to be closer to God and to act the way I think enlightened beings would/could/should act, it all falls by the wayside when the reality of who I am collides with the reality of who I think am wanting to be (at a given moment).
Take, for instance, what happened twenty minutes ago. I am walking down the street when I encounter an imbecile who has his bicycle situated sideways on the sidewalk. During this less than brilliant maneuver, he is chatting with two babes. I know they are babes because he is young, and dumb, and obviously heterosexual. And as such, these innocent bystanders are also in my life's way.
So in one unholy instant -- one swell foop as it were -- I have taken a brother in this life and transformed him into an imbecilic, straight, self-centered clod. All because he is, himself, being human in a fashion I find annoying and totally intolerable.
Thank the gods there was no spiritual mirror present then and there, because if there had been I would have seen myself as I truly was (then and there).
An arrogant, impatient, hetero- and age-a-phobic weenie.
A Child of God, yes, but a weenie nonetheless.
And I might have dissolved into a blurr of self-loathing.
Fortunately, I do carry my own portable spiritual mirror with me all of the time -- and was able to catch my present mentality (IE, spoiled brat) almost immediately (well, within sixty seconds).
(Sometimes it seems my ability to pull out the mirror is on a kind of time-delay; it's almost as if God wants me to experience this crap just long enough to feel sheepish about it.)
And with the mirror out I was able to see myself while hearing the small Voice I've come to know and love. The voice, which in so many words, said,
"Leave him be, Michael. I need him to be there, in that
way, straddling the sidewalk, exactly as he's doing."
The Voice might have added, "And I don't mean maybe." -- but fortunately, didn't.
Then, in that moment, I realized -- my spiritual mirror outstretched before me -- that every instant is exactly as it should be.
Tiny and judgemental me, fragile human that I am, can let go of the holding on. Holding on to irritation; holding on to annoyance; holding on to the "This is my world, people, try to make it operate the way I think it ought."
So, graciously, I said a prayer for the young man, for his wayward bicycle, and for the babes. I even said a few quick prayers for the street people in the doorway of the library across the street.
I was on a spiritual roll. All the world and all my brothers got my blessing.
And as an after thought, I threw some forgiveness my own way.
Somewhere, I'm sure the merry eyes of Spirit were twinkling.
And so it was.
Share this post :
|
|
No comments:
Post a Comment