The Question Mark, June 9, 2014

At precisely 2pm, last Monday, on a grassy hillside in Piedmont Park just outside the dog run, I had to stop.  Martha was with me, which might be why it happened.  Never underestimate the hidden power of man’s best friend.

She stood directly over me in the way that dogs do to make sure their drool, generously offered, never misses exposed skin.  She needed to cool down, and I needed to lie down.  I had been thinking too much, like always, and felt exhausted.  The grass was cool on my back, and this ground felt solid.

I was thinking about the letters in my name and why I was seeing them everywhere.  What?  Everywhere.  Think about it.  My last initial, Y, appears in every tree a multitude of times.  Each new branch creates the letter.  You could also say the letter Y is a pictorial representation of a tree branch, but my ego likes to see it the other way.  My first initial, E, is pretty easy to spot as well, as my mind seeks order from the apparent chaos of the woods.  The letters of your name are probably there as well, but I wasn't looking for those.  C'mon, we all saw this as kids, until our vision left us.

Coincidence or crazy, this day was becoming too much.  I couldn't unsee nature’s insistence that she had my number, or rather, my letters.  This must her way of saying, first, that she’s literate, and second, that she's aware of this part of her; namely, me.  We are part of each other, so shut it.  No problem!  Also, please, if this isn't a Chiffon margarine commercial and you’re (we're, I'm) really male (what?) or other, please don’t get hung up on the female gender pronouns.  I mean, we (you, us) just assume you're (we're, I'm) female (what?), like ships and cars and cats.  But not dogs, because dogs are always assumed to be male.  It's a binary thing.

Avert your eyes, I thought.  Look up.  I looked up toward the clouds from the cool grassy hillside near the dog park.  Martha had distanced herself by a measure one might call “healthy.”  She knows me.

Everywhere!  The letters E and Y drifted by, lazily.  Muggy summer days provide more than enough raw material for a full-on attack of the alphabet.   Please rain and empty this delirium from the sky!  That plea did not work, so I tried another tactic.  I closed my eyes.  It’s not there if you can’t see it.  Everyone knows this.  A few seconds later, I opened my eyes only to confirm that what we all “know” isn’t necessarily true.  There it was, as big as a Macy's parade balloon:

?

Stay still; don’t move.  My best bet was to appear relaxed, calm, intentional.  No one walking by will be able to shaky-finger me into an asylum!  But wait - this is America.  We don’t need proof of anything; just a few words said with feeling.  Everyone knows this, too.  One heartfelt “J’accuse!”and it’s over.

Panicked, I saw three options.  First, I could pretend I didn’t see it, even though the closing-my-eyes thing didn’t work.  Second, I could chalk it up to being a fun oddity projected from the mind of a quirky, healthily-distanced, persanimal named Martha, though she seemed to be ignoring me.  Or, I could accept the invitation, and ask it a question.  But, if I ask, what if it answers?  And what in the hell do I mean by “it?”  Oh what the heck, let’s ask.  It’s not like I was taking the same risk as meeting a guy off grindr.

The End*

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*It so sucks when you don't get the whole story, doesn't it?  Update:  July 8, 2014.  I've been reading "Why I Am an Atheist Who Believes in God?"  by Frank Schaffer.  The title is actually a bit misleading (though good for talk shows) because the author explains why he does in fact believe in God - the God within.  He makes a most compelling case for inclusion and justice, which to him, along with kindness, are the cornerstones of Jesus' teachings, and the foundation of the Christian religion.  I agree.  He also makes the point that the notions of inclusion, justice, kindness, joy, generosity, and service are not exclusive to Christianity.  Indeed, no single religion or belief system should be thought of as exclusive or superior.  They differ mostly in the trappings, ceremonies, dogma, and such, but when all of that is stripped away, we are left with something so simple, and so profound that all human beings can access it:  communion, or connectedness, fostering and sharing the above traits.  It is an understanding that we (which includes everything in existence) are in this journey together, as one.  I've had some tough lessons, because well, some things just seem too far-fetched to be true.  That said, it is my faith and belief that bring imagination to life, and so, I choose to believe.  I choose to stop the cycle of harm, of hurt people hurting people.  It ends now.  So too does manipulation of others (we all do it in subtle ways), and of allowing myself to be manipulated, however benign.  I am not a pawn.  My life is my own, though part of a larger fabric, as is yours.  (Let the debate about what constitutes "hurt" begin!  I think some things just need to be left to individuals to discuss and decide.)