Friday, June 5, 2009

A Story

Not too long ago, perhaps 10 minutes before now - the actual timeline is of no consequence -, there was an incident. An incident. Of course, the whole of our lives are simple strings of incidences, some good, some bad, some better than good, some badder than bad, or worse... Regardless, this incident was an extraordinary incident. It, the incident, surpassed that of what is considered normal and thus became a story worth telling.

Men will be men, it is said. Vein the same, it is true that women will be women. Having now defined genders with genders, it is time... for what? The story.

The incident, men and women, the story is this:

Sauntering the path of most direct approach (to the local pub), Paul, the sole character of this story, was lost in thought.

'To what end will I be used in this life', Paul wondered as he ambled prudently. 'Is happiness a pipe dream in this work-a-day world of which I have become, what has come to feel like, a permanent fixture?'

'My friends? Well wait. What friends have I? Is life about that? Is my, our, everyone's purpose in this life to build relations with others, social networks? Is that where true joy lies? Perhaps. Are my social insecurities but sly deceptions of this wonderful truth? There it lies, the truth all around me, in the faces, the actions, the words, the expressions, the smiles and the joy of those kindred spirits nearest I. How can such truth feel so unnatural? Is that natural? Likely not. There must be an explanation for this. There must be an underlying truth, undergirding the lies that are continually at work eroding my confidence and destroying my sense of place in the social institutions of this world.'

Just then, in the middle of what was on track to be one of the longer musings of Paul's jumbled mind, a truck cut hard right mere inches from the bard's front. Razed by the near death experience, Paul's thoughts turned presently to the immediacy of his philosophizing.

'I must find my place - purpose and future - in this world immediately,' Paul vented.'Lost, I am but a nomad without a herd, wandering aimlessly towards a bitter end.'

Life had taught Paul that lessons, true, spiritual, existential questions, cannot be forced on one's own conscious. Answers to our deepest, most definitive questions come on their own time, on God's time. But by our own volition we are without the most basic answers that every soul has sought. God decides. Our dreaming is too conservative, too weak, too shallow, Paul knew. The greatest answers arrive when we have ceased seeking out the branches from which they spur, and instead seek the trunk from which they originate. Suddenly, losing himself on this stream of thought, Paul found himself at great peace, grounded in this new and wonderful truth. He need not think about the trivialities of life, the answers to his most basic life questions. The trunk, the strength of the tree, God, is where he must fix his focus. Fear fades, worry abates and life comes. This is freedom.

'How could I have missed such a simple truth?', Paul sighed.

'Living in freedom, in the creator's freedom, I am free, absolutely free to live, not worry, to be, not seem, and to carry-on as if everyday were my first and without fear, the last. Life is not defined by what I think, but by how I live. Comfort. Complete, consummate comfort. I am free.'

Paul continued on his journey to the pub, arriving some forty minutes after setting out from his one bedroom flat. A contagious smile sat wonderfully upon his face as he sat straight, proud and with assured peace at the bar, sipping contentedly on a wonderful brew. Doubtless, his present disposition spread wildly to the other patrons of the pub, without his knowing, but in his knowing existed his recent revelation - a revelation that would forever change his life and inadvertently affect the lives all the souls he subsequently encountered. 

1 comment:

Deane Christianson said...

Paul seems like a great guy that I know....