Bill, a man in his 50's who is going through a scalding labyrinth of divorce, came over for coffee yesterday. We sat on the couch and sipped and chatted: With luck, by tomorrow, the divorce papers would be signed and he could begin to distance himself from an unremitting rug burn in his life.
On a happier note, Bill had been invited to speak at a conference on cults -- to detail his own unfortunate experiences with a high-profile guru whose purportedly-gentle message was actually grasping and self-centered and harmful. Bill had been hurt, wrote a book about his adventures and was still, to some extent 'processing' the fallout. He had spent much of his life on one spiritual quest or another. The cult experience had been painful ... but later this month or perhaps next, he planned to go on a ten-day retreat not far from here. He was still questing and as I listened to him speak, I seemed to hear one example after another of a human being who longed to explain what was somehow unexplainable in his life, to put things in an order that would somehow produce peace, to discover and own some alchemical formula that would produce a long-awaited and much-sought ahhhhhh.
Explanations. Living a life based on explanations is invariably unsatisfactory and yet not-seeking explanations seems indelibly stupid.
Bill delivered his ruminations and adventures with the kind of well-ironed pleasantness of a man with something to protect ... carefully coiffed, in well-structured control, amiable and yet still looking for a way to be in control of the uncontrollable shit that life can dish up. If he could just be in control, find the Rosetta stone of all explanations, then things would seem less out of control, less wobbly, less capriciously unnerving ... and perhaps he could at last relax.
The blinking yellow traffic signal advises caution. It is not exactly green, not exactly 'go,' and yet not exactly red, not exactly 'stop.' Yellow tells passing drivers that there may be danger up ahead ... but on the other hand, there may be nothing but smooth sailing. A blinking yellow light advises attention and encourages doubt. Blinking, blinking, blinking ... who knows what may be around the next bend?
In spiritual endeavor, I guess everyone works up their own laundry list of blinking amber traffic lights -- warning signals that suggest you may end up in a ditch or maybe there was never anything to worry about in the first place. Still, they are a warning and worth heeding. Some of mine are:
Explanations.
Ecumenism.
Belief.
Hope.
Altruism.
Understanding.
And now that I start making a list, I realize the list is endless -- that there is nothing in spiritual life (or any other) that does not invite a serious caution ... a caution that may turn out to be 'nothing at all.'
And further, of course, there is the recognition that life does not put up traffic signals. Traffic signals are what I put up and observe and sometimes get tickets for ignoring.
Life -- for those who credit explanations -- is nothing but green light.
Going, going, gone.
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