Greetings from the mountain top…
As most of you know, The Guru has sat atop his boulder, saggy buttocks clinched tightly in a desperate attempt to not fall into the ravine, for longer than most countries have existed. He is a sage among sages, a seer among seers, and a provider of amazing orgasms. He is a teacher, but also a constant student.
The guru two mountains over, having taken no vow of isolation, drifts frequently into the lands below and after his visits he brings me word of what he has seen and learned. Many mornings as we share a cup of mountain goat tea (Celestial Seasonings doesn’t deliver on the mountain top) we discuss and debate how The One could possibly see all, hear all, and know all. This particular morning, my guru friend smiled and said his recent trip to the flat lands had answered the question once and for all.
One of the concepts that have bugged me throughout my many lifetimes (and, in addition to Santa’s constant surveillance machine, both troubled and confused me) is The One knowing everything we do every second of every minute of every day. Equally troubling, and even more confusing, was a Sunday school teacher from a past lifetime who explained He really only saw the ‘big stuff’. Is there not a test or something to become a religious teacher?
I have repeatedly put to the test this idea of The One only watching the ‘big stuff’ to see how much I could get away with before I was smote. Which was apparently quite a lot…
My guru friend shared what he saw during a recent trip to the lands below when he visited a grocery, and how it explained the ability of The One to handle so many tasks simultaneously.
He watched as the mid-morning soccer mom brigade began its assault on the grocery store. Numerous children in shopping cart seats or behind the wheel of those cool racing car carts (I wish they had those when I was a kid–riding on the back of an ox doesn’t have the same ‘it’ factor) tagged along, all pulling on mom’s pant leg and pulling things off of shelves while begging for cookies and toys and gum.
The moms, my guru friend explained, were like generals on a battlefield, keeping kids from taking a header out of the cart, catching cans before they hit the floor, and filling their carts (from a shopping list, no less) all while juggling a cell phone with two simultaneous conversations. “Oh, it’s my sister on the other line. She can wait. So what happened last night on Desperate Housewives? I forgot to Ti-Vo it!”
All of this occurred in front of my guru friend time and again. No one was hurt, everything on the lists was purchased, Desperate Housewives apparently still did not answer all the questions, and the sister was just fine. Oh, and one kid was grounded for sticking his tongue out at the cashier.
“Impressive,” I commented to my friend. He smiled and chewed on a piece of hair from his mountain goat tea. “So?” I asked. “So what?”
“It’s really not so hard,” was his reply, “keeping your eye on everything while focusing on your goal. Not when you’re used to it, not when you care, and certainly not when it’s your responsibility.”
I realized just how much we limit The One in our own minds.
The One is the ultimate multi-tasker and just because He does not smite you does not mean you have gotten away with anything. Not ultimately. As my guru friend explained, from the looks on the faces of a few of the moms at the grocery store there were punishments handed out at home – in private where the lessons will be truly learned without distractions.
The lesson got through to me quickly. If an NFL quarterback can read a defense, remember four pass routes and their check-offs, pick up a blitzing linebacker, notice the pom-poms of a cheerleader, and throw a football 40 yards downfield all at the same time, then it is ridiculous to think The One cannot do a bit more.
Dang. I really thought I had gotten away with some of my antics.
Peace out ya non-believing freaks