I have wondered why, when we did what we thought the Universe was telling us to do, are we in such a mire? We have always been lucky, from early on. The Universe was there for us, a substitute for God, theology, Master of the Universe...so many of those other caps to our over-arching existence. It was an interpretation of own brand of divinity, freeing in our possession of it, different from any other. We have not been without our pitfalls, but for the most part, we have trusted the signs, followed the inner voice and trusted what the Universe was telling us. And then, like the most miserable Job, were left out to dry. There was not a series of tests of our faith; our Universe, when we loved it, did not do that. It was not cruel. It was not always apparent, but when it spoke, we knew it. And we listened.
Then and still, years of turmoil. The kind of turmoil that breaks up marriages, drives people to homelessness, hopelessness, suicide. Job seems a likely comparison. But our Universe has not stepped up as even God did in the end for Job.
Yet still I kept looking for it to, kept trying to see signs, to notice what it wanted me to see and try not to hold a grudge. Still it did not prove itself. Has not. And, I have come to realize, never will. That bond is broken.
I still feel we did the right thing, moving our family back, even though it seems we are working against the current. At every turn there is difficulty, a solution available but just out of reach. And not just in concept only. Twice, a house for sale, twice offers made and twice fallen through. It's taunting almost, if I still believed in a Universe interested in me particularly. But I can't. Won't. Because I can't be disappointed anymore. I'm tired of waiting for this friend I thought I had to take me back after our rift. Tired of waiting for my let-down lover to prove himself. It won't happen. Any goodness we receive now, any boons, come not from benevolent omniscience. Come not from finally having passed tests and proving ourselves worthy. Come not from a reconciliation of compromise on both our parts. There is no governing force in my life any longer. I can not tolerate that opinion. I cannot listen to it any more. If it happened to work for me before, in whatever form, yet now it makes me jaw-clenching furious to hear of one door closing and another opening, I must realize that I cannot have it both ways. I cannot cringe with fury at the religious atonements uttered for shit times and also hope for my peculiar brand of Universe to come back to me. They are one and the same. Either you buy into it in its entirety and you find solace, or don't. This move was right for us whether the deity wanted it or not.
"How many times have I lived this life? Have I ever gotten everything right? It's too late to start again. And it's to early to give in."* It's too early to give in. I continue not because I find a sustained faith in a God, not because I have found my Universe at my back again, not because my trust has been renewed. I continue because I am here. Because I can either do or not. I refuse signs and portents that come from an all powerful anything. I deny it my supplication and pandering. I will find and follow my own way, make my own connections and create my own moments. I have no affiliation, no bond, no allegiance but to this life. Because it simply is. It is here and I am here and I will live it. It is freeing to have no ties, no dogma, no unfulfilled ordained mission. If this gives me no peace, then it will be own disquiet, my own to harbor, my own to douse.
*quote from Death of Me, by Channing and Quinn.
