One of the things I like about being Jewish is that you can argue with God and win. Remember: two Jews; three opinions.But, what about those of us who actually do harbor numerous opinions, maybe three, perhaps four? More? Maybe. Well, what about it? It makes for a lively outlook.The head spins. It's lively, all right. The good thing is you can always trot one out with passion and conviction when needed. As long as it's not your way or the highway, this makes for interesting academic seminars and party chatter.
Take God, for example.
There is no God but Reality. To seek Him elsewhere is the action of the Fall. It may have been Jim Harrison who said this. It sounds like Harrison, but I'm not sure. Anyway,think about it. Its premise is there is no God (with a caveat). Its "proof" is based on The Fall, a canon of theology. If there is no God, can there be a Fall? And if God is Reality,just what is Reality, anyway? Where I see fuschia, a honey bee sees black. Things could get confusing.
RIP
Rest In Peace
There's another one. A dastardly contradiction because you don't rest in peace. You're not at peace, and you're not resting. You're dead.You can only rest in peace when you're alive and content with your lot. When I know my day has been fulfilled by chopping wood and carrying water, I take my afternoon nap feeling all's right with my world. RIP. Don't sweat the small stuff. I'll take care of that leaky faucet when I wake up.
The most important thing I learned this year is that "life is not human". It does not end with me. It certainly does not begin with me. It isn't even me. Life is everything there is and was and will be. There is no eternity because that denotes a period of time. There is no period of time, only a forever, an unbounded, unbridled ceaselessness, and I am a piece of that, no more, no less, a mite with time to myself, my allotment, my part in this process of forever.
I have reached an age most do not reach, in good health most do not have. Pele died today. He was eighty-one. None of this do I take for granted. I'm told I look twenty years younger, although that doesn't mean I feel twenty years younger. It means my ego is tweaked, but my bones still scream at me when I wish they'd shut up or, at least, whisper. It means I'm not in a wheelchair, don't use a walker, don't cart around oxygen, don't need Depends, but still maintain enough aches and pains to mar my every day. I am of the belief that my mind still works, although you'd best be the judge of that. Lemme know. What I do is: I pay attention to details. The sizzle of a match before it reaches full light. The style of type on the page of a magazine.The eraser of a pencil.The cut of the weatherman's trousers. The way the washing machine sounds. The point of view of a photograph.I don't bother much with prayer, but I do pay attention to details.Does this sound trivial to you? Does a feeling of sheer delight in being alive sound trivial? Thrilled you're doing what you're doing that very moment that you're doing it? Trivial? A feeling of connection to the most modest of objects:a staple, a frying pan, a napkin, a fossil. It takes time, and too often my impatience gets the drop on me, but often enough it gets me through my day in a State of Grace. Hold on. Just what is a State of Grace, anyway, and what's a nice Jewish boy doing in it? Free from sin? Certainly not from my point of view, but that constant attention to detail. A gratitude towards details. The absolute joy of the familiar. Like coming back home. I can see and smell and hear and touch! How wonderful! I rarely get bored. That is my salvation. Now, some folks might want to further complicate all this by bringing God into the picture, but I'm not one of them. It's so simple. Leave it that way.
No comments:
Post a Comment