Last Exit Before Oblivion

In the dream I was riding a hand-cycle. I don't know what was wrong with my legs. The hand-cycle had a fairing. Around me were men holding rocks, and high-quality bicycles leaning everywhere. The implication was that the men were there to destroy the bikes, assuming they didn't turn their attention to me. It was a brief dream, a kinetic moment, a flash of scene. I don't know how it turned out. I work up, feeling God holding me.

God has been effusive in his care for me, but this was special. Any time He is this close I know it's for a reason, and the reason usually has to do with self-destruction.

So, yes, there are humorous aspects. I watched my brother get teased mercilessly in his various romantic involvements and decided I'd preserve my sanity by staying out of it. The odds were against success anyway. My brother killed himself some years back, and the only reason I'm still here is that I found a more flexible balance between self-destruction and living. The balance included ruthlessly suppressing any tendency toward handing any of my eggs to anyone else for safekeeping. Now God has proven that he cares more for the hidden, fragile parts of my soul than I do. He's not one of those dark men holding rocks. He designs paths and with subtle nudges that can easily be ignored guides those who choose to pay attention. No matter how improbable it might be.

I conceived of my previous post here as an Email directly to my friend. I ran various versions through my mind and then realized it would work better as a Blog entry. Then I sent her an Email to tell her about it. Her response was a surprise.

I just sort of automatically assume that everyone knows more than I do. Women are born knowing how to relate to others, right?

The first line of defense is long stretches of empty ground. Make others approach you. Women never do this; they're taught that men always make the first move. I thought I was safe. I met her at one of the parties I manage in Until Uru and we talked a little bit. The party is something of a marathon; we start early so Europeans can dance and then just keep going until west coast U.S. nighttime. By the later part I'm tired. I play slower music, and the party becomes more thoughtful and there's time for conversation. That's when she asked me to meet someplace privately for ... something. I said yes. Notice how easily she ignored the long walk.

Next defensive line is more immediate. I'm not good at small talk. Ask me how the 49ers are doing and I have no idea. As usual, though, obstacles I don't control caused problems. Something came up and we couldn't meet. We tried again and something else came up. On the third attempt we actually managed to meet, and then two other people landed where we were. At this point I was ready to admit failure, that the Cosmic Principle just wasn't going to let this happen. Look back in my past and you can see a zillion examples of this: no sooner does something get started than the phone rings, or some other thing. It's just not worth it. My friend doesn't give up that easily, and once we finally managed to meet she didn't bother with the 49ers or the weather. We talked about God and churches and life. She made it look easy and I just followed along.

It turns out to have been no easier for her than for me. Her story is as unlikely as mine, and our situation reminds me of a dating agency for porcupines. Also brings up questions about how shy people meet. The main thing I see is that God can do anything. After all, porcupines do get together. Maybe I should start calling myself Porcupine instead of Lord Chaos.

The chaos idea fits, though, because once something good happens to me I bring in my very own wrecking ball, dynamite crew, big rocks and chainsaws. I used to treat this all as just something I did. Small problem, part of who I am. Everyone puts up with this kind of thing, right? It's also a good reason for not getting involved with anyone else: don't want to get into a relationship and then have to disappear. Better not to start. Kind of too late for that now; I'm well down the slope.

This is typical of God. He started with kindness, separating the warring factions when I asked for his help three years ago and keeping me from tearing myself apart that night. Now I know that self-destruction is basic to my way of living. Leaning on me is dangerous because I will fail. If I don't fail I will blow up the foundation. God absorbs the explosions, though, and is imperturbable.

So, two people come wandering out of the dark and meet in God's grace and light. What will come of this? All I can say is that for a day, a month, years, it will be unique in all the world.



--Sinéad Lohan, "Sailing By"