I had a dream, several weeks ago now, that I witnessed an (unspecified) miracle that made it absolutely impossible to doubt that Jesus was truly Lord and Savior. And my having accepted that allowed someone who really does not talk to me anymore to completely forgive me, which was essentially a second miracle.
It was the sort of dream from which you wake and take in your usual surroundings with a very dissappointed, “Oh.”
I have witnessed no miracles since.
I am posting for the third time this week as a surprise for readers who only check back every few months.
I have been thinking a lot in recent times about how much I regret what was probably the most morally upstanding decision that I have made in the past several years.
That would be when you went to New Orleans to help with cleanup from Hurricane Katrina, right?
… I have been thinking about how I regret the SECOND most morally upstanding decision… But you know, since you bring that up, I think it is important to address that I did that for entirely selfish reasons. At the time, I was so utterly miserable in school and in the direction that my life was headed that when the opportunity presented itself to be “anywhere but here”, I jumped on it. I feel that the fact that shoveling a foot of mud, trash, and unidentifiable filth out of some strangers’ living rooms was a better use of my time speaks not so much as to the quality of my character as it does to the dismal state of Cal Poly Pomona.
Similarly, I would frequently fantasize about running away to join the Marines, who often had a booth set up on the quad. However, these were recruiters for officer training, and my thoughts were, “What the f#%! would I want to be an officer for? Just give me a gun and ship me somewhere interesting.” Because I would rather be shot at than go about learning Fourier analysis or whatever. I was sad when I finally got around to looking at their web page last year and discovered that I was too old to join the Marines. It was also somewhat ambiguous as to whether or not having a bachelor’s degree disqualified me from enlisting (as opposed to becoming an officer.) I do not see why it would, but even if not, then the website seems to be based on the assumption that no one with a college degree would WANT to be a simple enlisted man. Also, when I mentioned this topic to my family one time, my sister specifically forbade me from joining the Marines. Also, the fact that I am generally anti-war and unquestionably anti-gun might be an issue. As it turns out, I am not too old to join the army yet… but that probably just shows why they are not Few and Proud.
I have spent the last few days watching the first season of Being Erica. It is a Canadian show about a 32 year old woman with a string of failed relationships and dead end jobs not suited to her level of education, and, most importantly, a long list of life decisions which she regrets, who is approached by a “therapist” with the [as yet unexplained] ability to send her back in time to relive and redo past decisions. Admittedly, it is a rather girly show, and the SOAPnet logo tag is certainly cause for concern, but if it is not obvious why such a show might still appeal to me, then I am not going to spell it out.
Curiously, while most time travel stories are based on the “Butterfly Effect” philosophy, where changing even one detail in the past has drastic consequences on the present/future, this show takes the opposite approach, where attempting to alter or avoid one incident only leads to circumstances with essentially the same consequences, so that the heroine returns to the present to find (in most cases) that hardly anything has changed at all. However, she now has a fresh perspective and a healthier attitude that allows her to move forward in her life and her interactions with family/friends/coworkers in a more positive direction. Therapy. It has also been established that other characters do remember specific details of the “new” timeline, and also that the therapist is at least visible (though unassuming) to other observers, ruling out the possibility that the experience is all in her head. The ultimate result is that the show seems to be promoting the idea that we are a product of our choices and that an understanding of the past leads to a better future, yet simultaneously implying the completely contradictory idea that fate is essentially self-correcting in a way that would apparently render free will irrelevant. (Look, it’s a soap opera that happens to have time travel. I am not necessarily recommending anyone else should watch it, it just so happens that I have watched a lot of crappy TV shows in recent times and this is not as bad as some, okay?) [Edit: Since this writing, I started watching the second season. While there were some questionable moments in season 1, there has been a decidedly unwholesome shift in the tone of this show in season 2, and I would like to withdraw my already half-arsed endorsement.]
Anyway, as someone who has quite a list of regrettable life decisions, it is interesting to think about what decision I would go back and change, if I had the opportunity. Surprisingly, I could not come up with anything. I am the product of my choices, and if I could somehow go back and change something, invoking the classic “if I only knew then what I know now”… yet that is not possible. Not just physically impossible, but philosophically impossible. For if I made alternate decisions in the past, I would then be the product of different choices, and I would no longer “know now” what I know now, as it were.
However, lest anyone mistakenly think that I may have said anything profound, this is merely a character flaw thinly disguised as wisdom. Looking back, I do not make decisions, I make excuses to stay within my comfort zone. Some of which sound better than others. I can look objectively at any choice that I have made that lead down an undesirable path, and logically infer that the other choice would most likely lead somewhere better, but even given the completely hypothetical opportunity to take the road not traveled, I still prefer the comfort of life as I know it to the uncertainty of the other option. In short, I would not change anything from my past, because it is easier not to.
I picked a fight on Facebook last week. That is not like me. Sarcastic comments on people’s posts – sure, I do that all the time – but this was different. This was not done for amusement, this was done out of rage. Someone posted a link to an article, along with some mocking commentary of their own. (Like people do, nothing unusual about that.) I read the comments and I read the article. Without rehashing all of the details, let me just say that the topic was related to the authenticity of Old Testament. (Quite loosely related in my opinion, but a hot topic none the less.) I felt that the poster’s mockery misrepresented the article on a number of points. For whatever reason, on this particular day, I was so offended by this that I felt the need to call this person out, on Facebook, in front of all of their friends.
That was a bad idea. A couple of volleys from each side later, this person condescendingly claimed that I was “too smart for that.” Now, I do not appreciate being told what I am or am not smart enough to think, but that is not immediately important, because as it happens, *one* of the ambiguities I was arguing about was, in fact, patently ridiculous. And no, I am not stupid enough to believe it, unfortunately however, I did make the mistake of assuming that my opponent WAS. It did not seem like there was much to be gained by mentioning that fact at this point. In fact, by now I was preparing to throw down the gloves and really rip into Christians as a whole (as I have a thought or two on that subject as well), but fortunately I realized that this whole exercise was poorly conceived and felt it best to quietly withdraw, before I said something that I REALLY would regret.
I do not, however, think that I was wrong. I was certainly wrong to engage the enemy on their own turf as it were, and I regret being belligerent about it. That does not, however, mean that my objections were not valid.
If that were the end of it perhaps it would not even matter. However, this was not an anonymous internet encounter, this is someone that I know, that I have already seen since the incident, who had the opportunity to gloat to mutual acquaintances that I had been “schooled.”
That is what troubles me most. That is why the specifics of the article and the argument itself are irrelevant for the purposes of this post. The simple fact is, my emotional response did far more damage to the cause of “healthy skepticism” than if I had said nothing at all. On Facebook, in front of all of their friends.
I have long felt that the best argument against any position is a fool arguing in its favor.
[I originally intended this as a loosely-related intro to this post, but sensing that it might take… oh… three months to get to the point, I chose to post it separately.]
I have gone back part time to a job that I used to have, and semi-coincidentally worked along side someone with whom I have some history. To call a spade a spade, we were friends in high school until he basically stole my girlfriend. So, back in April of this year, on one of my first days back with this company and things had been cordial thus far between this individual and myself, and we were working together in a scissor lift 20 feet in the air when it suddenly occurred to me, “Wait a minute, don’t you hate this guy?”
I did of course, for many years. But that was all such a very long time ago… what does it matter now? So I began to wonder, is that all that forgiveness really is, when the consequences no longer matter? I have heard a few sermons on forgiveness and I feel like there is supposed to be more to it than that.
A few years ago there was some tension with another person, who would regularly cause a scene when I was around. Then I would get emails, so many emails: apologies, then perfectly innocent ones, and often ones that really did not make any sense to me. I felt at the time that the best policy was not to respond to these emails. I could forgive each incident; I certainly found it annoying, but also somewhat comical, and in some respects, I think it was more uncomfortable for others to witness than it really was for me. My concern was that in spite of the apologies, I had no expectation that things would be any different in the future, and I did not want to give this person a “pass” as it were to continue acting in the same manner. [I in no way claim that I handled that situation correctly, but do ask you to take my word for it that this person was not rational enough for us to work out our problem in private, like adults.]
In any event, I am pretty sure that “conditional forgiveness” is not Biblical either. In fact, I recall from at least one sermon, the speaker claimed that forgiveness is not dependent on apologies, moreover, forgiveness benefits YOU, not the person who wronged you.
There is someone else who has been on my mind a lot lately. I keep thinking back to the last time we did anything. It was not technically the last interaction that I had with this person, but it was the last time we had a meaningful one-on-one conversation. I regret that day. Not so much because I did anything wrong (although I did), but more because it was the last chance that I had to set things right. And I did not. It is perhaps the converse to the situation above. How do you apologize, not for a single act, but for a complete pattern of behavior? “I’m sorry. I have been selfish. I have been inconsiderate. I took our friendship for granted. I have been less than honest about my motivations and an overall bad friend, but if you give me another chance, I promise to do better?”
I do not even find that convincing myself.
I do not know if I have explicitly mentioned it here before, but I suffer from an internet addiction. I really do not like to mention this to people, because I worry that it merely sounds like a euphemism for “pornography addiction.” Which is a serious problem of which it is not my intention to make light, it just so happens that I have a different serious problem.
I have talked for years about canceling my internet service, but still have not followed through. I have in the past taken the smaller steps of blocking particularly time-consuming sites such as youtube and hulu from my computer, and also had a couple of periods where I disconnected my modem and forced myself to go to a local wifi hotspot in order to check email and so forth, but something always comes up that reinforces the necessity of a home internet connection. I rather feel that in this day and age, internet access has become more important than the telephone. (Oh, and also because I have no self-discipline. Let’s not forget that.)
That was all a setup to mention that I recently went on a four week internet fast in an effort to force productivity in other areas. For full disclosure, it was not a 100% abstention, as I did log on occasionally for “business”, i.e. to pay a bill, online banking, I checked my email exactly one time because of a work-related matter, and so forth. Also, I confess that I did have a couple of lapses where I spent a day (or two) researching everything there is to know about whatever random and ultimately pointless topic that happened to be on my mind at the time. I did however manage to avoid facebook, rss reader, webcomics, blogs, online flash games, TV shows, videos, comedy websites, and listening to music.
The first day was quite difficult. I literally went through withdrawals, wondering “What the !@#$ am I supposed to do now?” I think I spent a great deal of that first day literally staring at a wall. The second day I got into a cleaning mode which was a nice change. It was not until the third or fourth day that I finally made it back into the garage to continue with a certain woodworking project.
This of course, was the whole point of the exercise. For I have a great number of ideas and projects that I would like to do “sometime”, but when it comes to getting up and JUST. F$%^ING. DO IT! … I seem to have trouble with that.
So for years, I have blamed the internet, because I would rather surf the internet than do, well, anything really. Within the first few days of my fast, I realized that the problem was actually deeper than that. I have no energy. Even though I have this project that I have been working on, that I want to work on, that I really have nothing better to do than work on… I found that I just did not want to work on it “right now.” I explained it to one person as the feeling you get when you have come home from a long and stressful day at work and you just want to sit down and “veg” for awhile… I feel like that all the time, only I haven’t just worked a long day. I feel that way when I wake up, after breakfast, even after working for just an hour or so I feel like I would like to go back inside and sit down for awhile.
Surfing the internet is something that requires very little energy. If I had a working TV, I might watch that instead. If I had any video games, I might play those. If I subscribed to any magazines, I might read those. Yet, as I mentioned before, the internet is all of those AND MORE. It is, however, a symptom, not the problem.
It is not a particularly new problem either. For as long as I can remember, I have always been a little “slow.” I think slowly; I move slowly; I drive slowly, work slowly, write slowly; and in a more abstract sense, make decisions slowly and accomplish life goals very, VERY, slowly. I am continually frustrated in that just about every task I undertake seems to take far longer than it reasonably should. It would be nice to say that I am merely being “meticulous”, yet that is rarely the case. Take, for example, woodworking, which I am at least pretending to be passionate about lately, yet ultimately I recognize that it takes me a ridiculously long time to do shoddy work.
Anyway, that was my revelation for this month. I have not yet determined if the problem is psychological, physical, or dietary. At this point, I suspect all three.
My last post was because I (for whatever reason) was in a mood on that particular day such that I wanted everyone else to despise me as much as I despise myself. That’s a horrible goal, you say? I know – I’m a horrible person. Bang, done and DONE.
By the way, I did not even know it at the time, but October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, which makes that post even nastier than intended, I suppose. Anyway, if I know anything at all about God (and I am not so sure that I do) he is going to have me choke on those words SOON. Watch.
So, my home town hosted a “Believe and Walk the Cure” thing this morning, sponsored in part by Inland Women Fighting Cancer. I initially made the (perhaps understandable) mistake that this was specifically about breast cancer, when in fact it was to benefit the cancer center at a rather famous local university, and thus presumably for all forms of cancer, male or female.
However, on the topic of breast cancer, I found my immediate reaction to be, “It’s too late. What do I care if they find a cure NOW?”
This might not necessarily be the best attitude to have.
I do a thing with some people sometimes and after the first couple of times I began to get the distinct impression that one of them did not like me much. As I think is natural in such cases, I found myself asking, “What did I do?”
Seriously?
Well, yeah, obviously I meant *besides* that…
Well how about…
And I was hoping we were passed all that.
And then there’s…
I don’t really see how that would affect…
Ahem.
Hey now, hardly anyone even knows about that last one.
You don’t say?
You know what, just forget I brought it up.
Hey, remember when you took that Chinese class, so that you might be able to talk to your hypothetical Chinese orphan in her native tongue?
I don’t think you can prove that…
…Only to decide that (for some reason) your little spat with God precluded you from getting married, and thus disqualifying you from the adoption process?
Excuse me…
Which probably is not true by the way, although the fact that you neither have nor want a real job would likely pose a problem.
Did you have point?
Not really. I guess just that you’re an idiot and your dreams are stupid.