Dylan might have called it a simple twist of fate. Dan James, the legendary head football coach of the Washington Huskies once claimed the number to be three. Many say, poetically, that it is as simple as being in the right place at the right time. Others will tell you that the only kind of luck is bad luck. We used to have a pithy little adage about the sun not shining on the same dog's ass all the time. Then there is the one about the broken clock still being right twice every day.
As we ponder the deeper cosmic significance of this existential philosophical predicament in which we find ourselves, trying our best to attach meaning to an otherwise unruly world hell-bent on running predominantly on a chaos theory that has its genesis around the time of something we call the Big Bang, complexities develop and questions arise.
No wonder we are so confused. Most of us, after earnest attempts to ‘see’ the meaning in all this, default into political, religious or sociological surrender. We pledge allegiance to an ideology that demands identification by the color of our hats, unquestioningly give our souls to a bishop, Rabi, yogi or other charlatan, or fall in with a sect, club, group, gang or goon squad as a way of belonging to something potentially greater than ourselves. Let’s face it - the only thing that separates us from sheep is our ability to accessorize. A situation I personally find totally flocked up.
Which returns us to the open, asking, innocently, how did we get the flock here? A question that has fascinated me since I first noticed the difference between myself and my playmates in the sandbox. Is it choice, karma, predestination, luck, photosynthesis, evolution, genetic mutations, DNA or an alien conspiracy? Why do babies get run over by trucks? Why do we hate those that are not our clones? Who (the flock) invented greed and power, deception and deceit? Why do we tax the poor to aid the rich? How did we ever manage to convince ourselves that killing people for monopolistic global corporations was a patriotic chore? Why do we continue to gerrymander, discriminate, oppress, lie, steal and cheat when all the aforementioned clerics cite their deities as specifically forbidding it? Is it possible that we, the collective us, are the biggest fools to ever hit the big time, and all by just acting naturally? What fools we mortals be.
The simple twist of fate, Coach James’ calculation that in an entire college football game there are just three plays that turn the tide for or against, or the suggestion that one might wish for luck instead of skill, leads me to wonder about my choices…from here on out. Does every one really count?
Yesterday we talked about the power of forgiveness, looking upon your past, our errors of omission and commission, with peace. Being gentle with the assessment of your crimes, as well as their resulting punishments and penances. Do the crime and serve the time. But please do not carry the baggage any further than necessary or any longer that the time it takes to honestly chant a mea-culpa. Let it go, and move along to the next challenge, you know, like the one happening right flocking now.
Breathe deeply. Forgive yourself. Exhale peace. And then do what must be done with a revised sense of harmony and balance. You are part of this. All of it. Make a solid contribution. It is all connected. You to Dylan, to James, to Lenin, and to the Kennedys. Flow with it. Sing your song. Smile on your brother. Laugh. Life is hysterical stuff and all you can do is join in the universal joke.
“Alexander Rostov was neither scientist nor sage; but at the age of sixty-four he was wise enough to know that life does not proceed by leaps and bounds. It unfolds. At any given moment, it is the manifestation of a thousand transitions.” - Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow.
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