Saturday, January 29, 2011

Conversations With a Light Bulb.

It's been a bit of a rough day.

I got up around around 7:45 AM, as I had a car inspection scheduled for nine. Of course, if you knew me, you would know that my name and the words "morning person" don't quite fit into a sentence without the word "not" between them. But, despite the best of intentions, my wonderful sense of procrastination, coupled with poor weather, had managed to arrange my inspection scheduling on a Saturday, my day off, three days before it was due.

My car's inspection managed to total to just under $600. While I had managed so save up slightly more than that beforehand, it was depressing to have to pay so much, as I had already decided on many other places that the money would be better suited for. Even though I was technically under budget, it was upsetting to have to let go of so much of my money at once. Being a responsible adult, I decided to deal with my frustrations in the most efficient way I could imagine. I pretty much went directly from the garage to the liquor store. I picked up a bottle of the second least finest cherry-flavored vodka,(on sale for $9.99!) and headed home for a nice quiet evening of solitude and reflection. Three quarters of the bottle and several hours later, I realized I needed to wash a load of laundry sooner rather than later, so grabbed the laundry basket and headed into the basement to throw it in.

Now, being a philosophical man by nature, while I was carrying the laundry basket downstairs, I once again began to ponder just exactly what it was that God wants for us. The usual theme for these thoughts, as of late, is that God wants us to experience the adventure of life, with emphasis on love. Since that's been the recent theme, that is where my mind went first - the adventure. My mind reeled to places it has visited before, the joys of climbing the metaphorical mountain, of overcoming the tasks set before you, even when you don't want to. It paged over all of the knowledge gained through events that I would have rather not participated in, but am now a better person because of. In spite of this, I sill always wrestle with the fact that I will fear the unknown, in spite of how much I have grown because of it. As much as I know and understand its value, given the option, I would rather avoid it.

The reason for my avoidance of the adventure is that at some point during it, we all must suffer. So I began to wonder about why we suffer. If God were all powerful, no one would have to suffer. The question is, then, why do we? The only conclusion I could find was the realization that God does not allow us to suffer, he has built us to. Coming down the stairs, to the basement, the thought seemed so profound to me. We were built to suffer, maybe not as a primary purpose, but it was still part of the design. The profundity of the thought stopped me in my tracks. Immediately after I stopped, the basement light flickered, adding immeasurable weight to the thought that has just occurred.

"Really?" I thought, looking over at the light, as I continued walking again. The light bulb flickered once more, as if in agreement.

I loaded my clothes into the washing machine, in silence. According to a flickering light bulb, (and my drunkenness) God built us to suffer. The question of "why" turned over in my head, as I loaded the clothes into the machine. I wanted a more definite answer, but I was afraid that if I asked for one, I would be met with nothing, leading to the whole ordeal being just coincidence. I quietly continued to load the washing machine. Finally, my desire to know the truth outweighed my need for faith. I looked over at the light bulb and challenged it.

"To what purpose?" I inquired aloud, looking directly at the bulb itself, wondering why God would build us to suffer.

The bulb entered into what I can only describe as a shit fit. It flickered for a moment or two, before turning completely off for a couple of seconds, and then back on. Now I must add that it had flickered at no other time, setting any kind of precedent for a wonky bulb. It seemed to respond to my thoughts and questions. So what is the answer? We suffer because God built us to. Why? I don't know. I don't speak light bulb.

===

After I had written this, I went back downstairs, to throw the clothes back in the dryer, and to see if the light would flicker anymore. While I was loading the clothes into the dryer, the light flickered, and then went out completely. As logic dictates, I chalked the whole situation up to coincidence.

Once the clothes were into the dryer, I walked over to the bulb and tapped it. It came back on. When it came back on, I looked straight ahead and noticed a (very faded) peace sign on the wall, half obstructed by a shelf. I turned around a let the light bulb know that it was a total dick, but I loved it anyway.