Deep and not so much

It’s Saturday night and I’m home alone.  It’s nice actually.  I don’t often spend weekends solo and in front of the TV, scanning channels for funny movies whilst eating a half box of “low-fat” cookies and slurping down hot tea, my dunking standby when I’m out of milk.  The Wedding Crashers may be one of the funniest movies of the decade.  My Saturday night crush is Owen Wilson.  I'm muting the commercials; and blogging. 

Lately, in an effort to entertain myself, I’ve been turning phrases around in my head.  Example: There IS enough time.  You actually do complete me. “I’m so curious, what were you thinking?” versus  “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING???” And my swimming self-talk: I DO swim fast enough.  It’s literally fast enough. Not fast.  But fast enough to not drown. And that’s enough.

I’ve also been thinking about people from the Bible. Usually when I read the bible these days (or years), it’s people-centric.  I’m not moved by platitudes or moral lessons, but rather personal journey’s, strategies, tragedy and triumph.

Example: When I get discouraged I think about Joseph.  I actually think about him, his person. I imagine him as a daddy’s boy, all happy and chill, prancing around with the confidence of a child who knows he’s loved, in his coat of many colors.   And then, in the middle of a ho-hum day with his brothers he gets the total shaft.  They put him in a well.  They steal his coat.  They leave him.  When I imagine what he felt all I can think is that he must have been scared to death and confused.  What was he to do? In a well, alone, unequipped emotionally to deal with the layers of meaning in this evil, unequivocal act of his siblings. In his life, prior to being dumped in a well, it doesn’t appear that there was much ambivalence.  Perhaps he knew he was daddy’s favorite, but experiencing life as “the fave” is not quite as complex as being the one that is not the favorite.  I would imagine he had a sort of Hallmark empathy towards his siblings. If I was the brother I might have wanted to throw him in the well too.  I’d like to think I wouldn’t actually do it though!  So there is Joseph, totally freaked and confused and frightened and alone.

And I think about all the transitions and transactions between the well toss and the moment, 30 years or so later, when he forgave his brothers.  I am awed by all the tragedy, temptation, growth, maturity and acceptance that took place, transforming and transitioning him to a posture of pardon.

Mainly though –right now anyway—I’m thinking about how his life was changed by one lone event. And that’s a radical thought to me as I reflect back to my own story.

My life was changed by one event as well, although not really Bible worthy. I fell in love and moved to Nashville, TN from Small Town, ID at age 18.  Although the boy is long gone from my world and thoughts, he’s the only real reason I ventured South.  And that one collective decision—made by my parents, X and me—to pack up my 1988 Camry, drive across the country with X and set up shop in Nashville, has changed the entire course of my life.  Now I live 2,000 miles plus from my entire west coast family, have learned and integrated into a different culture, have had opportunities I would not have dreamed possible in my rural years, and so on.  It’s surreal to think about how many days can run together and then, every now and again, we stumble on something big, usually unwittingly, and it totally realigns our stars. 

Random, reflective and rambling, I know. I’ll leave you with some sage love guidance from my favorite wedding crasher: Love is when the soul finds its counterpoint in another. And, for good measure, (or perhaps said quote's counterpoint): Love doesn't exist.  That's what I've been trying to tell you guys.  And I'm not just picking on love...I don't think friendship exists either.