I am at a loss. I am at a loss to understand the emotions of others. Every day I cause people pain. Sharp pain, profound pain. I try and try and try, but every day I cause hurt and suffering. Small barbs of words that I say in anger or frustration that fester and infect the hearts of others. It has happened to me, so why do let it happen to others? Blood on my hands; responsibility on my shoulders.
I just don’t seem to get it nowadays. I realize that as a human, I have my limits. But the strange contradiction is that at the same time, I don’t. And a lot of my days are just grey static; a meaningless repetition. Not particularly dark, not particularly depressing, just… indistinct. In all the lukewarm fog of the ordinary, where does one find meaning? The substance in our lives comes from our Gods, I think. Realize it or not, everyone has their Gods. Christians, atheists, Buddhists, Hindus. And these gods are gods of the ordinary: your son, your work, your ambition, your wife, your lover, your things, your space, your time, your intelligence, your beauty or your individuality. Set on a pedestal for all to see. Small. One-dimensional. Insubstantial. But we flare up in passion when they are questioned or invaded. They are OURS.
I think that God didn’t mean golden cows in the Bible when he said “have no other gods before me”. I think he meant ourselves. I think he meant our lies. It hurts when the person I love chooses to protect someone else. I love them. I want them to protect and serve and kiss and touch and get jealous about only me. I think that’s how he feels. I think that as he has this amazing, mind-numbing capacity for laughter and love he has the same capacity for pain and suffering. If he loves us that much, we hurt him that much.
So besides it hurting my mother, my sister, my friend and myself when I stick lies into them, for something to whisper it to them in the dark of night, besides their pain; behind it is an even greater one. Tearless eyes. A closed mouth. A broken heart. Being God means having your heart broken. Day after day, moment after moment.
So, how about this: not a cosmic voice screaming orders at us, dishing out rules and suffering. But a whisper: love me. Look for me. See me. Hold me. Find me.