Maybe, But I Prefer Another Explanation
In my last post I off-handedly observed I was a worldview experimenter, my main–and only–experiment being the one about writing my future. What I have observed so far in this experiment is that the results have not been even remotely predictable. When I started, I thought that either my writing would come true in my life or it would not. But what is happening is that pieces of it are showing up, but not always in my life and not always exactly as I have written them. What does this tell me about the nature of the universe? While I ponder this, let me share the next excerpt from ‘The Potluck.’ We left Abel and Renee doctoring the salad:
They were having such fun that at first they didn’t notice the room had turned quiet. At last Renee looked up to see that all eyes were on them. “What?!!” Her tone was one of reactive embarrassment.
Ima was the first to speak. “Joe and Abel and now Renee, too, are right and the rest of us are wrong.”
“Exactly,” Dee chimed in. “Everyone was getting all defensive and in their heads about what to eat and what not to eat. Only Abel and Renee were enjoying the food. And now let me say in defense of the sensual life, ‘Let them eat cake!’ I’m coming around with my petit fours to make sure everyone has some. And if you want more than you took from the buffet table, be my guest! I expect to hear some mouth orgasms happening shortly.”
Well, wasn’t she the blunt one! This was a view Renee was not used to hearing expressed at the kinds of parties she usually attended. What did Dee represent spiritually? The body? Sensuality? Decadence even, as she considered the cigarette and the pushing of petit fours. Yoga had taught her something about the spiritual importance of in-the-flesh experience; still to see it being lived out, extolled and stretched into the questionable extreme was…well, a bit shocking and maybe even off-putting. Weren’t we supposed to be treating our bodies as temples? Maybe she should ask The Very Reverend Temple what she thought. Before she could open her mouth, however, Justin leaned into the table, looked directly at her and in his deeply resonant voice asked, “How are we doing so far? A judgment, please.”
Frustrated that her question for Gilda had been derailed, she responded without censor, “Frankly, I’m more confused than when we started talking. Here’s a minister who appears to spend her time doing carpentry and baking bread while the scientist is in her lab researching God. The rich guy with the fancy clothes and expensive teeth wants us to believe that chasing money will be the solution to our problems. Whatever happened to the spiritual warning that the love of money is the root of all evil? The environmental activist appears to prefer macaroni and cheese to the organic vegetables she grows in her garden, and for some reason you’ve invited a hooker into your group to promote type two diabetes. But here’s the craziest thing of all: the person who is supposed to be your leader doesn’t even try to get anyone to see the light. He just curses you all and walks out. I just don’t get it.”
Well, maybe Renee doesn’t get it, but what I see in this excerpt is that the universe is perversely whimsical. Statistically one could make an argument for coincidence, I suppose, but for me that’s too boring. Quirky is fun!