The Nonconformist Culture

As I sit in my plush chair, I observe his demeanor while he plays his game. A faint giggle surfaces when he flips the card over to reveal that the image of the red apple matches the same red apple on the the other card. Surprised by his memory, he looks to me for affirmation. I nod and he runs over to me, feet swiftly pattering on the floor, until his tiny arms embrace my neck. He is so effortlessly amused; how refreshing.

I smile at him. And then I frown.

How innocent.

Hands that have not yet selfishly caressed someone they do not love.

Eyes that have not yet coveted someone they do not know.

Ears that have not yet favored vulgarity over decorousness.

A mouth that has not yet spoken coarsely with intent.

A mind that has not yet craved iniquity over virtue.

There’s an ignorance which correlates with his youth. A naiveté. A smile too innocent to know that there are things in life worth frowning about. Which begs the question: What right do I have, what entitlement do I have to determine one’s existence, like his?

I am one, two, three, four, five days past due. As I sit here pondering my potential fate -through each harrowing hour – I am left with a fraught inkling that I will be forced to encounter a “couples’ dream” far before my due time. Something considered a blessing for others will be a curse for me.

I understand that my choices determine my fate; I get it. I would never manipulate a natural consequence if it was I who warranted it. And for that, I do not get to decide if the consequence occurs. The Law of Creation, should I choose to test it, will go about its course and I must respect that.

So if that is the case, why then do I sit here bargaining with my Creator? If I can’t control the circumstances of my life, the creation of my life at that, then why would I plead to prevent another’s? My Creator gives and takes lives at His own faculty. His divine power is much greater than my own personal plea. I am not my Creator. By my Creator’s eternal law, I cannot choose if a life within me shall begin, nor should I be permitted to choose if a life within me shall end. I was not created under the pretense that I am a choice. I am not a choice. I am an outcome. An outcome of the Law of Creation.

I will endure my consequence…. My consequence? Is another life a consequence? Is the gift of life a consequence? Or is judgment the consequence? Is a lack of freedom the consequence? I will not know until this happens. If this happens. If this happens. If. If. But after one, two, three, four, five days past due, ifs are beginning to refashion themselves into whens.

If whens turn to ifs, then I have a lesson to learn. He has a lesson to learn. No. We have a lesson to learn. What an incredible lesson to learn. The Law of Life.

As I get up from my plush chair, I observe his demeanor.

His innocence.
His youth.
His smile.
His laugh.
I smile. And continue to do so.

“It could be worse”, I think to myself, “If this is a repercussion, what a blessed repercussion it is.”

—The Nonconformist