Spicy Lives

Generally, when I hear people talk 'variety' they're not very far from adding, "is the spice of life!" Indeed, it is, but just how many spices are there?

To my discredit, I just began dabbling in the arts of the kitchen, not always very well, but I have made a few tasty things, I think, although, note to self: never make family pumpkin-flavored things because they do not like pumpkin.

It's just that lately life keeps surprising me with its variety.

The other day I asked one of my students if she remembered my name, and she answered, "Of course not!" as if I needed a more definite way of saying 'no'. Then this weather- could the clouds dump any more on my icebox-where-my-heart-used-to-be-oh-OH! And this is the variety in my life, not even the variety of the lives I am privileged to interact with and I have been trying to be a part of a few more lives than I'm used to.

This isn't going to be about a post about how to get more empathy, or how to stop being boring, or five easy steps to do something in a more awesome way. No, right now, all I'm talking about is the very beginning: notice, watch, observe because that's all it takes to see variety. Even in 'cookie cutter' homes, like townhouses, maybe right down your street, have you ever really looked in those homes? Now, don't, like, you know, creep on the families, but think of it this way: it's hard to tell apart one bear from another, but it's pretty easy to tell apart one person from another, even with twins, Doppelgangers, and wannabes, everyone is different. And all those differences live in, generally, the same communities, or at least on the same planet.

Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We would not dare to conceive the things which are really merely commonplaces of existence. If we could fly out of that window hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove the roofs and peep in at the queer things which are going on, the strange coincidences, the planning, the cross-purposes, the wonderful chain of events, working through generations and leading to the most outer results, it would make fiction with its conventionalities and foreseen conclusions most stale and unprofitable. -Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes: A Case of Identity

How many spices are there? I don't know, but let me tell you, apparently salt is not one of them and if salt is not one of them, goodGod, I haven't even grazed the surface of the variety of Life- these lives I am privileged to interact with.

I can't wait to dig deeper.

See, snow days can be good for something.

Every day! All day?

About a month ago I told someone that I wasn't particularly fond of doing things daily. I'd somehow believed that doing things daily cheapens the thing done daily, the act done daily, but now, a month later, I regret saying that; I don't believe that at all. I don't think I even believed what I'd said when I'd said it! I just said it, hoping not to sound like some ritualistic lunatic. But when did one become a lunatic for rituals? Don't we all, in some sense, have rituals, daily or weekly or monthly or yearly? 

So then, why the rituals?

I don't know why anyone else does rituals, not really at least, but I've taken to rituals because they give me a sense of order amidst all the chaos. Haha, not that my life is very chaotic; things are fairly controlled [: my life isn't going down the toilet anytime soon, but I am aware that other lives are, frankly, going down the toilet. That other lives are chaotic, or misdirected or undirected, either by their own hands or someone else's; my life is nothing like that. 

I have a good life. 

I have no complaints. 

But I think my daily rituals, this sense of order amidst chaos, reminds me to be thankful that I have a good life  without complaints. 

I know that sympathy without action is pity (I don't know that action without sympathy is cold-heartedness), but what's this have to do with my simple, daily rituals? 

Whatever life may have for me or for others, chaotic or controlled, misery or happiness, we are all subject to chaos/control, misery/happiness in varying degrees: one's pain is no less than another's pain. Pain is pain is pain. One's happiness is no more than another's happiness. Happiness is happiness is happiness. 

You're probably wondering what my daily ritual is that suddenly helps me understand another's pain or happiness.

Hmm, I'm reading my Bible every day, relating to its characters whose troubles I hope never to endure, and whose pleasures make me green with envy. 

Reading my Bible daily puts me on edge. Going through the Psalms, the Pentateuch (the five five books of the Old Testament) and the Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John) put me on edge. Some days I feel so grateful for my life, and other days I wish I were born in another era because in spite of my good life without complaints I find that I am discontent. I am barely brave enough to tell someone I read the Bible every day without being ridiculed. Really? That person's opinion of me will only rock my world if she judges me for reading the Bible daily? And why do I even think she'll judge me?! 

This edge reminds me that I have no idea what's really going on. Whatever sympathy I have is kept in check by fear: what if my acts of blind faith produce negative consequences? What if my acts of thought-out faith produce negative consequences? What if I'm perceived as an arrogant fool? What if-? 

I'm afraid to let my daily habit of reading the Bible affect the rest of my day. 

It's like... When I read my Bible I sneak into a corner where I hide and feel safe. I stay in the corner for as long as I read my Bible and then leave that Bible in the corner when I'm done to go about the rest of my day. Aren't daily rituals, rituals in general, supposed to have a permanent, persuasive, indelible affect on my person? Isn't that why I practice daily rituals?

Isn't that why people exercise daily? So that they go from hiding their troubled spots to showing off their muscles? 

Aren't rituals supposed to be obvious progress?

Yes! Yes! I know! I denied that I enjoyed doing things daily because I was afraid of someone's opinion of me! I know that rituals put my life into perspective: I am taught what it means to be thankful for nothing and wary of Trojan horses. Yes, I read my Bible every day, but I only let it affect me during that hour or so. I hardly let that Bible reading, that perspective, affect the other twenty three hours of my day.

And that is incredibly unfortunate. 

Even outside of religion, it is always incredibly unfortunate when he is ashamed of what has given him everything so that he wants no more. Did not even Socrates' followers openly mourn his death sentence? 

I ashamedly mourn my Savior's death and he resurrected! Christ is not even dead anymore! 

Yet, I keep these things secret. 

What good are rituals if I don't let affect me? 

Psalm 51,17, "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;

a broken spirit and a contrite heart, O God,

you will not despise."

Very few of us have any understanding of the reason why Jesus Christ died. If sympathy is all that human beings need, then the Cross of Christ is an absurdity and there is absolutely no need for it. What the world needs is not “a little bit of love,” but major surgery.

When you find yourself face to face with a person who is spiritually lost, remind yourself of Jesus Christ on the cross. If that person can get to God in any other way, then the Cross of Christ is unnecessary. If you think you are helping lost people with your sympathy and understanding, you are a traitor to Jesus Christ. You must have a right-standing relationship with Him yourself, and pour your life out in helping others in His way— not in a human way that ignores God. The theme of the world’s religion today is to serve in a pleasant, non-confrontational manner.

But our only priority must be to present Jesus Christ crucified— to lift Him up all the time (see 1 Corinthians 2:2). Every belief that is not firmly rooted in the Cross of Christ will lead people astray. If the worker himself believes in Jesus Christ and is trusting in the reality of redemption, his words will be compelling to others. What is extremely important is for the worker’s simple relationship with Jesus Christ to be strong and growing. His usefulness to God depends on that, and that alone.

The calling of a New Testament worker is to expose sin and to reveal Jesus Christ as Savior. Consequently, he cannot always be charming and friendly, but must be willing to be stern to accomplish major surgery. We are sent by God to lift up Jesus Christ, not to give wonderfully beautiful speeches. We must be willing to examine others as deeply as God has examined us. We must also be sharply intent on sensing those Scripture passages that will drive the truth home, and then not be afraid to apply them. -Oswald Chamber's My Utmost For His Highest (December 20th)

If this is my year to be brave, I really need to stop being so afraid of people who might judge me. What a silly fear.

Okay. Moving on.

"So, Justine, how do you feel about doing things daily?"

"Oh! I'm glad you asked because, actually, I-."

Speaking of which, there is a man, Cesar Kuriyama, who records one second of every day of his life. Maybe I should do that too: a great reminder that every day is incredibly important.