Sooner or later, it had to happen.
Sunday, about 14:00, I had just bought my second coffee at McDonald’s. I put it on my table and, as they require me to do, took all my things with me to go out and smoke.
Outside, I took one more shot at trying to understand how evil — negativity, conflict — happens.
There are those who say that evil is necessary because without it, humans would never be able to appreciate joy. I have never found this believable.
The horrors of life among folk who disadvantage themselves are (1) wholly unnecessary and (2) unknown to those who consistently choose to be happy and who therefore prosper. Those who create a heaven on earth for themselves and each other have no need to contrast their state with the living hell others create. Indeed, it is quite beyond their ken; and vice versa.
The living nightmare that was Denise Richards’ life with Charlie Sheen was wholly unnecessary. She has no need of it to appreciate the utter bliss that life would be with me. Indeed, after a day or two of the unending ecstasy she’d enjoy with me, she would not remember Charlie Sheen in contrast; rather, she’d not remember him at all.
I have believed that evil is not necessary, but rather inevitable.
And I was about to meet that face to face.
When I went back inside, my coffee was gone.
Maya had been cleaning up the dining room. Seeing my coffee at my table, but no sign of me, she’d figured I was gone, and thrown it out.
She asked the server to fix me another.
I took it, and went back to my table, and all these feelings came. They weren’t nice.
I didn’t want to feel bad. So I asked, “What do I want?”
I began to think of what I want in life: a nice place, a nice job, accomplishments I can be proud of. I poured all those feelings into these desires, and felt better.
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This schizophrenic woman came in and stood in the dining room for quite some time. I don’t know that she ever bought anything. First, she spent some time complaining to various figures that only she could see. She was quiet for some time. Then she began saying, “I told you not to say that,” over and over, at least a dozen times.
I sat there with my fingers wrapped around my coffee cup, and began to feel energy emanating toward her from my hands. Involuntarily, without intentionality, I was praying for her.
This corrected the mistake of my next-to-last remark about Jeanette: you don’t necessarily have to understand a problem’s cause, to participate in its solution.
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Update, Monday 2014-12-22: This morning, it happened again. This time, no one knew what had happened. I took it in stride, and bought another coffee.