There are times in life when I am so greatful for moments where I can actually find something to laugh about. This is one of those moments. I am very greatful to the cast and crew of The Big Bang Theory. Thank You!
At the end of the day, if the world’s troubles depended on your next decision, what would you choose to do? I asked myself that question just a few moments ago. It was the very first time I had come across a situation where I needed to ask myself that caliber of a question. I was reflecting on the events of the week, global and personal. It was a tough week for me. As it was for many others. It was Remembrance Day this week. A time to reflect and pay respect to many that have given their lives for peace. Until this moment I could not understand what it was to be a soldier. I could not understand why someone would choose this way of life. But now I understand the honor that goes with being a soldier to fight for peace. I understand what it means to give your life so that others may have peace in theirs.
Today was a particular day where vengeance and justice became my motivating force. It is something that I don’t frequently feel. However, I have felt it strongly in the past – but that’s another story. I believe every experience we go through we take something from it. Learn from it. If we do not learn, we must repeat it again. And sometimes, similar challenges are set before us, to see how well we have learned from the previous lessons. Today was one of those days for me.
A situation was brought before me where most would judge it to be inhumane. Immoral. Even, cruel. It was definitely how I had judged it to be for most of the hours of my day. It had caused me to feel things and do things, and say things that I believed was out of love and protection. I had a grievance against another human being, and nothing was going to stop me from trying to achieve my goal of destroying that person in some way. I was not patient in letting the Universe unfold its secrets. I was resistant to the roadblocks placed before me as I had set out on my campaign of destruction. Every phone call I had made, every authority I was connected to brought me no closer to a resolution or my satisfaction. I was livid that a system was so flawed in caring for its weak. I was even more livid that I perceived myself to be so helpless for someone I love so dearly. My last words before I left her side were “I love you.”
I walked away with anger.
I was at a complete loss as to go about what I had set out to do. I was confused with fear and hatred for someone I barely know. I knew only that retribution was to be the reward for the actions which I had just witnessed. “Where do I start?” I asked myself. Do I knock on a neighbor’s door? Should I wipe on their door step what sticks to the bottom of my shoe? What can they do to help? Is it really asking for help or is it just asking them to participate by listening to my campaign? Would they know who I am or would they just think I am a crazed woman asking them to blindly join my cause? I stepped back off the curb and away from the direction of the neighbor’s door.
I drove away in confusion.
What is the best way to deal with this? Who can I talk to? Where do I go? If I go home, I take this with me and bring it home to my children. Why should they suffer for another’s ignorance and shameful behaviour? Yet, still I drove in that direction hoping an answer will come to me. I wanted nothing more than to be home and to be held. An idea struck me. But the police station was miles back, and there wasn’t one in my area. The universe provided an officer of the law for me by way of a speed trap. I am not sure if he pulled me over or if it was I who pulled him away from his regular business. You can thank me later if you were one of those who sped illegally past us.
It was the first time I had began to truly sob. I was in a miserable state. I had even used the sleeve of my ski jacket to wipe the tears and snot that ran down my sweat soaked face. I recounted the story. I question myself now if it was to expose the already seasoned officer of the further dereliction of the human race, or if it was to summon his support in a time of crisis. Nevertheless, he pointed me in a semi correct direction of how to commence my campaign of destruction.
Lawyers were called. Distraught parents. Police Units. Hospitals. Doctors. Nursing care. Crisis Centres. Friends. I even considered calling the local papers. There was no satisfaction in anything I heard. There was no resolution. Only blessings wished upon me and the situation.
It wasn’t until half way through a conversation with a friend that something had changed. It was after I had spoken with an angel at a public health hotline. The agent had humbly apologized that there was nothing that could be done, despite the situation’s despicable nature. The agent suggested I took care for myself and wished blessings to come my way this evening. It was the only thing she could offer as help in this time of need.
The friend was outraged. She had lived in search of vengeance for some time. She was no stranger to it, and had already begun her own campaign of destruction in the name of my same cause. “What are we to do? What can we do? What is legal? What is right?” We volleyed these questions at each other. Only one answer came to my lips. Only one that is powerful enough to make miracles happen.
“Pray.”
“It is the only thing we can do. Pray. Pray for Heidi.”
It was only then that I felt a wave of satisfaction come over me. It was only then that I could stop the tears from flowing. It was then that I know what Heidi would want. I am not a religious person. It is not how I choose to describe my faith. It works for many others. In my experience, religion doesn’t work for me. I can’t seem to go to any house of worship without crying and that just makes it terribly difficult to read the literature. Although I do carry a card in my purse with the Prayer of St. Francis printed on it.
I have started a ritual in the last few months. No matter how hard my day was, no matter how emotionally trying it was, I will end the day with a sitcom and a bath. I am always guaranteed a good laugh with the two sitcoms I choose to watch at this time. Tonight was no different. My bath has become my ritual to wash away any dirt that remains from my day, physical and/or emotional. Tonight I had plenty of both.
I have learned it is the quality of questions we ask ourselves that improves the quality of our lives. As I slowly undressed, peeling off layers of tear and sweat stained fabrics, a question popped into my mind. “If the future of the entire planet, and possibly the universe was laid on my shoulders right now, what would I choose?” The last thing my sister said to me during our last telephone conversation of the evening was, “I just don’t want to fight anymore. I can’t take it any longer. My heart is too weak.” I agreed, thinking to myself, “This isn’t finished. I can do this for her without her being affected by it.” But really I was kidding myself. There isn’t any way this could be done without her being affected by it. Not while she is alive. Not while it is still remained meaningful in its cause. Not while the rage and need for vengeance is still burning like a brand on my heart. My love for her began to soften my need to destroy and seek redemption. This time is about what she wants.
I gingerly stepped into the bath tub. The water had barely covered the floor of tub. The question still haunting me, breaking through my mind past the noise of the water gushing from the tap as the water rose above my thighs. The question still lingered and hummed through my head in harmony with the whir of the whirlpool jets. I closed my eyes and submersed my head below the waterline so that only my mouth and nose were exposed to the rising steam of the cleansing water. Released emotions swam around in my head as the oils and dirt dislodged themselves and swam around my body.
The jets flicked off and only the drip, drip, drip of the faucet could be heard as the last remaining droplets of water fell from its mouth. A calm. A resolution. Satisfaction.
Today is Friday the 13th of November. I was visualizing and reflecting on all of the turmoil of my week, coincidentally climaxing on this superstitiously unfortunate day. I used to judge soldiers to be cogs in the machines of war. They were sent off to fight. To kill. To destroy. They chose to defeat the enemy with violence and sometimes, terror. Until this week I had never looked very closely at what it really meant to be a soldier. With the many wars civilization has repeatedly experienced, in the past and present. It is hard to really understand what they are really about and what was being learned from them. I looked passed the thick lenses of glasses into the eyes of a veteran. I saw that there was a look of dissatisfaction as he pressed his toothless gums together. It wasn’t anger, nor vengeance, but pity that burned in his heart. A pained look came across his face when he gazed at the latest generation of wounded soldiers saluting before him. The canons rocked and he shook as if it were still the first time he heard them, not the anniversary of his sixty-fifth year of hearing them. With age and experience he was already wise to the answer of the question that was building up in my mind.
“If the future of the entire planet, and possibly the universe was laid on my shoulders right now, what would I choose?”
I chose peace.
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