ancient philosopher, Aristotle, cause and effect, chaps my hide, die, DNR, Ecclesiastes, God, hard as hell, incompetence, Mega Millions, mystery of god, Newtonian, Pastor, Plato, rant, reason, stupidity
Ever want to slap the crap out of someone who says this to you?
I know this has got to be extremely hard to endure, but we should remember that there’s a reason for everything that happens in the world.
I’ll go you one better. I not only want to slap the living piss out of people who say it to ME, but I also want to severely shake those who I hear say it to ANYONE, or even as just a general observation on life. Just knowing that people say it and actually THINK they are being wise and considerate when they do, CHAPS MY HIDE to the exploding point.
Oh Yeah!? O.K. then, what’s the reason, huh? Huh? HUH? Oh come ON, oh wise and ancient philosopher, give me what you got! How about it, Aristotle, speak up! Don’t give me Ecclesiastes, please? Yeah, yeah. “For everything there is a season and blah blah blah.” It’s NOT the same thing, ok? I get that all things come in a certain ordered time and place, and as a result of cause and effect. It’s hard as hell to “cast away stone,” unless you “gather them” up first. And just how the crap can anyone fully understand war and peace without experiencing them both at one time or another. And this is NOT saying there is a reason. GROW A BRAIN! Huh? Come on, Plato. Hit me with your best shot.
Is it a mystery of God that will not be revealed until we are made perfect in Him?
Alright, look. I’m going to break down and admit something here.
I believe very well that there may very well be a reason for everything. Didn’t say I didn’t, did I? Well? Go back and look if you MUST. You AIN’T going to find me disputing it. Nope.
O.K. So, let’s say that there IS a reason for everything. What earthly good can it do to tell someone that who is currently going through a very bad patch because something horrible has happened? tell me someone who hears this “sage” advice who HASN’T had something horrible happen to them recently.
WHAT!? You just recently hit the MegaMillions for 135 MILLION dollars!? Well, you know . . . there’s a reason for everything . . . WHAT!? The woman you love more than life itself, just agreed to MARRY you!? Oh dear, well, you know . . . there’s a reason for everything . . .
Well, to be fair, sometimes it is said after what is supposedly a good event. It happened to me lately. I was SUPPOSED to die, but didn’t! I had a Do Not Resuscitate Order while I was in the hospital and I choked on aspirated vomit and they resuscitated me!
My pastor said, when informed that there was DNR order for me, you guessed it, “Well, you know, there’s a reason for everything.”
YES! And the reason was I DIDN’T LEAVE THE FUCKING ORDER LAYING OUT WHERE IT COULD BE SEEN BEFORE THEY SHOVED A BIG GIANT TUBE DOWN MY THROAT!
God didn’t have anything to do with it. I filled out the form, and signed it, and dopey from pain killers, stuffed it down inside a bag instead of laying it out on my hospital tray.
Do you understand? I did NOT want to be resuscitated and took steps to prevent it, and they did anyway, because I screwed up! In such an event as what happened I WANTED to be allowed to croak. My perfectly reasonable and legal desires were subverted because I was stoned out of my mind.
And it was interpreted as A GOOD thing for which there was a mysterious “reason.” BULL SHIT! I didn’t WANT a big tube in my lungs. I figured if God wanted to take me at ANY time and was serious enough about it to try to CHOKE ME TO DEATH or WHATEVER, then “Hey, Big Man, go ahead. I stopped having any fun a long time ago anyway.”
“Oh Hamilton. Praise the Lord! You know there’s a reason for everything!
Yeah, Yeah Yeah. I get it. I screwed up. No fair rubbing my nose in it especially while I’m already feeling like I’ve been run over by a train here in I.C.U.. Can we move on now, preacher?
O.K. Enough of that. I think I made that point . . ..
Where the hell was I? Let’s try to keep this Choo Choo from derailing.
So there’s a reason. I don’t care if it’s the Divine Hand of the Maker of the Universe or just simple Newtonian Cause and Effect. 999 times out of 1000, the reason can be figured out if you give it the old Newtonian College Try. Apply a little logic to the soup. I bet you can come up with a more than reasonable hunch. But, why would you necessarily WANT to or even freakin’ care??
Something bad happened, ‘kay? Let it go. Move on. If you feel that in order to prevent its recurrence you should examine the cause, then go for it. But, please please please don’t YOU come up to me and rub my nose in my own misery by pointing out something that’s painfully obvious or even indecipherable due to its Cosmic Origins!
DANG! I could go on and on . . . But I think it’s time to shut this rant down. Don’t you? Shut it down? Why now, just when I’m really starting to roll? Well, you know, there’s a reason for everything.
p.s. sometimes the reason for things is nothing more complicated than simple stupidity or gross incompetence . . .
‘Warren,’ she said, ‘he’s come home to die:
You needn’t be afraid he’ll leave you this time.’
‘Home,’ he mocked gently.
‘Yes, what else but home?
It all depends on what you mean by home.
Of course he’s nothing to us, any more
Than was the hound that came a stranger to us
Out of the woods, worn out upon the trail.’
‘Home is the place where when you have to go there,
They have to take you in.’
‘I should have called it
Something you somehow haven’t to deserve.’
(The Death Of The Hired Man. [excerpt] Robert Frost.)
And to where on Earth may you go if there is no place you can call home, but to earth itself? Willingly or not it is the ‘Home’ to which we all retreat. Having fought the corporeal battle and lost, we must return to base from whence the war began. And, assuredly or not it is the place that must take you in deservedly or not.
Once gone to Earth, where does the other part retreat once separated from the host? Is that ‘Home’ as well? I trust it is. And, must that place also be deserved? I think not, unless the one who thus journeys rejects the paternal love thus proffered.
In such a case, to where does the homeless spirit travel in search of surcease? Why, to nowhere. Once divorced, the immaterial many no longer mingle within its former environs. The two are incongruous. It must needs perish.
Mother Earth and Father Sky are merely homes of a forever estranged but endlessly married couple. The latter begat the former. If one cannot and the other may not, because the gift of the Father is rejected, the child, now cast adrift, must vanish forever and be drawn beneath an ocean of spurned love and forgetfulness. The Mother will incorporate the child into her bosom, and the Father as well, if He is simply granted access before the fact.
It happens in the twinkle of an eye.
It was five years ago today that I had my last drink as an alcoholic: May 07, 2007. For the full story of that day you may go to Losing Faith — VIII.
For the full story of my life over the last ten years, the first five of which were spent in alcoholic hell, you may go to the page Losing Faith, which is a page of links to the serialized autobiography. It is not quite, but almost, finished. Part XV is coming soon.
I really don’t keep track of the days and months and years. No, really I don’t. The only reason I keep any notice of it whatsoever is because other people keep asking me, “So, how long has it been?”
The culture of Alcoholics Anonymous puts a GREAT deal of emphasis on the date of the last drink and the elapsed time since. The first year they distribute different colored chips signifying the periods in months of sobriety. Each chip is a different color which signifies “danger,” “caution,” “grow,” etc. Then at the end of a year they give a one year chip and another chip for each year after that.
On the first year of sobriety that call that a “birthday,” and if it is announced beforehand they have a cake for you and lots of pats on the back. You get to stand up and give a speech on “How I Did It.”
I find it highly hypocritical and in general an enormous load of Bull Crap. For an organization that puts such a heavy emphasis on “One Day At A Time,” it sure is a whole lot of fanfare about the days behind you that are utterly unalterable. Especially in the early days when the most importance needs to be put on daily getting by and survival, the “recovering” alcoholic is looking forward into days of “how long until my next chip.”
Folks, “sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” When you’re thinking of what you will get in the future and when you’re counting the days since your last drink, then you are missing the rewards of today and ignoring the trials that are staring you smack dab in the face.
I was alcoholic for 35 years. I was in and out of A.A. for all those years, and it just didn’t work for me. I quit after God removed the disease. I am not “recovering.” I am recovered. The only reason I look back now is because other people keep requesting it.
If A.A. works for someone else, then more power to them. Whatever gets you straight, Pal.
Anyway . . .
So, in the terminology of Alcoholics Anonymous, today is my “Birthday.” What did you get me?
For every cause the is an effect. For every effect there must first be a cause. For every antecedent there is a corollary. For every beginning there is an end and for every and by every end there is a new effect.
This is as true as when hydrogen meets oxygen and forms water as it is true as when an alcoholic drinks from the bottle and destroys their life.
Naturally, it makes no difference. Naturally, there is no judgement. Naturally, it just is. “B” will always follow “A” — naturally.
In it there is Beauty.
Standing outside the public library, I noticed I was standing beside a car with a university logo on the back window that was the same for my Alma Mater. The car was a Jaguar XJ.
As I was looking a woman about my age approached the car and started to get in. She was dressed and coiffed very smartly. Jewels hung from around her neck and encircled her fingers.
“Nice car,” I said.
She looked at me in my street clothes and carrying my dirty tote bag holding life’s necessities.
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“I couldn’t help but notice that the sticker on your car is the same from my university. Did you go to “XY?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Class of “**”
“Me too,” I replied. “What was your degree?”
It was my turn to smile. “Me too. History minor.”
Her jaw slackened and she looked over my general appearance once more. “I remember you! You were the guy who was always challenging the professors. Remember how upset you made professor Swenson?”
“Yeah, that was fun. But she had it coming”
“Well a lot of us really looked up to you.”
“Well, I gotta run. Lot of stuff to do. It was fantastic seeing you again?”
“Yeah, you too.” I couldn’t ever recall seeing her before in my life.
She got into her Jag, stroked it into a purr and rolled away.
Do you think it funny that people from such similar backgrounds can wind up on the opposite ends of the Social Ladder?
I don’t. It’s pretty simple actually. It helps if you were a polisci major/history minor, but only a little.
Only in America.
Archeologists discovered the perfectly preserved remains of a human male and female. in west Asia. It didn’t take them long at all to determine they were the mortal remains of the couple known in Bible stories as Adam and Eve.
How could they be so sure, so quickly?
The human remains found had no Belly Buttons.
Have you contemplated yours lately? How do you recognize your humanity?