Promises and Life-long Commitments
When does one grow up? When they reach a certain age? As ego verbalizes? But ego cannot even agree on what it thinks. Ego cannot agreee on anything. Literally. Take a look at different state laws and regulations as an example. Same country, same peoples, same language, same values and yet so many different laws in different states and territories. We can’t even agree on the learning to drive age or the regulations pertaining to young drivers.
Yet we stand there, with a straight face and serious intent, surrounded by our nearest and dearest, and mouth lifelong commitments to another human being. “Yes,” we pledge and promise, “Till death do us part.”
What kind of mindless absurdity is that anyway? We are not the same person we will be in an hour, yet alone 50 years from now. And it’s not just the self to consider, control and worry about, there’s two playing the game. Is it any wonder far more relationships fail than survive? And very, very few are blissfully happy?
Yes, it would be simply spiffy if all relationships survived, if life was one long frolicking jelly bath, if everyone lived happily ever after and cheeky cherubs dropped Lolly Gobble Bliss Bombs from up high as we frolicked and cavorted from crack of dawn until brother sun lazily dropped beyond the last horizon and we, with pure hearts and blessed dispositions shuffled into god’s own dining room, to feast upon unimaginable delicacies prepared daily by the hands of love and faith and goodness. Then romped on until Mr. Peaceful Sleepy took us into lands of restful splendor through which blissfully meandered rivers of magic, till we woke gently and the jolly prance started all over again.
But, as our buddy Normie Rowe sang; The things you’re liable to read in the Bible, It ain’t necesserily so. Nor is it so that life is one jolly frolick. Why? I do not know. You’re guess is as good as mine. But you know what? It really doesn’t matter. Seriously, the reason(s) for the mess we call our happy home bears no weight on the outcome. What matters is what we do to get through, and out of, it.
Say you find yourself flailing about in a river of excrement, just to make it a little graphic, what is the most sensible thing to do? Try and figure out how you got to be there? OR, get the hell outta there a.s.a.p?
Hopefully you’ve said the latter. There’s plenty of time to figure out the reasons why when sitting on nice green grass out of the muck. Trying to figure out why you’re in a mess while swallowing dallopps of it, drowning in it, isn’t the smatest thing to be doing. But that’s eaxclty what the majority of us do. Why am I here? What have I done to deserve this? When will someone come along and pluck me out of this? Oh me. Oh my. Oh god.
Well, here’s the happy news: No one knows. No one cares. No one’s coming.
God, you say? Ahem, hate to lay this on you but he didn’t exactly break into a sweat to get his own son off that raggedy cross to which the boy was nailed. And you think he’s coming for you? Seriously? Get a grip. Ain’t no one a commin’. There’s no recuse plan. Okay. And if you’re into praying, here’s the best one, like ever! If it’s to be, it’s up to me.
I’m hearing some of you. Oh why are you being so negative, today? Whay are you spoiling my Sunday? What’s wrong with you? We need to be uplifted, not driven into a deeper state of anxiety.
Well, if youre looking for more suger coated lies, go to your local religious hangout, sing a few songs, put some money in the collection plate and walk out with a happy spirit. Or, maybe go catch up with one of those feel-good self help gurus.
If on the other hand you genuinely wish to move out of the world of Everything’s for sale. Pain and misery are on SPECIAL! First thing to do is get your bearings. Take in where you are and what you’re in. Then, work your way to the nearest exit. It’s the one that says, Love- This Way!