"Human existence, or one's manifestation of it, is the greatest riddle of all. Many people will pursue this curiosity through insurmountable tragedies to get to the unanswerable other side." Courage of Fear
I spent many hours (as depicted by Angela in Courage, "minutes turned to hours, hours turned to days, days turned to nights and nights to day to begin again") in verbal debates with my Creator. I wanted to be the guy in the Scriptures who duked it out with Him one-on-one... you know the guy who got his shoulder dislocated in the battle?... Unlike him, there was no way I was going down. I was mad as hell and I knew if I could focus that energy to the One who deserved it the most, I was bound to triumph. If nothing else I could at least exhaust all the rage going on inside me (again, like Angela, "dancing demon fairies screaming victory.")
It was those things, the life stuff, too many deaths, the chosen homeless, the history of misery in so many lives, that fueled the rage. It all seemed too cruel. Everywhere I turned there was more hardship, more devastation... I wanted to just SHAKE Someone. Make Someone pay. Force Someone to make it stop, make it better.
Granted, many things were of my own making; working disparately to make things happen with my writing, being a stranger in a strange land, believing that the new business I started should have taken off quicker than humanly possible, and losing him. To divert from shrinking like the bad witch in Oz from self-obsession; I did what I was taught to do early in my spiritual journey. I helped others.
Then finally on this day our battle resolved. At one of my fellowship meetings a homeless man walked in. Literally, many brought their shirts to their noses the smell was so bad. His smell. He grabbed some coffee and some food and sat among us. Like he had been one of us forever (which, when you think about it, he actually had).
After, one of the deacons approached me and advised me this man, Chris, had been doing this quite often lately. Chris was asked several times not to attend, but he came anyway. Talks of police and restraining orders. I was asked to offer an opinion. My mouth started to open... my head was about to flatten this man through diatribe... I closed my mouth... inside I thought, this is supposed to be a Spiritual Group. How could we be so nonspiritual? If his smell offended so many, why didn't that man take the man home and let him take a bath instead of bringing about discussions of police and restraining orders? The man lived in a dumpster, for christ sake-- My mouth opened again and these words passed my lips, "What would the Master do?"
As the words left my lips I realized how much of a hypocrite I was being. Why would I think that man should bring him home? I don't have a right to tell other people what they should or should not do. I should bring him home. After all, wasn't the mere thought of thinking what that man should be doing, doing completely the opposite of what I thought should be done (I realize that is a tongue twister, so take a moment and read it again)?
What would the Master do?
I went outside, asked Chris if he wanted a hot meal and a bath then welcomed his smelly ass into my car while quickly rolling down all my windows. I swung by the second hand store, purchased him some cloths and then took him to my home on the LaCosta Golf course. I paused at my door and I advised him, before letting him enter, if by chance he got any wild notion to steal anything, because most of it belonged to my roommate, it would be a very long time coming before they found his body under our roses.
While he was bathing I washed his cloths and made him a hot meal. While he was soaking (and I knew he was because his cloths were already drying and food simmering) I asked my Creator why would He allow folks to go through this life so diseased they pick at their own skin till they bleed?.. they desire to live on the streets than be on medication forced on them? And for what? If Heaven is real, why suffer through life? And if it is not real, why suffer at all? Is it just one great big hoax?.. a beginning, middle, then The End, like one of my scripts? Is it truly what it is or what we perceive it to be?
All that came to me was today's quote. Sometimes, there are no answers, only riddles... sometimes it just pays to be curious.
Have a grand day all.