People, rather us, as we are people – the collective us, talk an awful lot about karma. Karma is given the identity of a woman, apparently, as “she” is oft referred to in this manner. Karma is a B word. Karma will come back to bite you. It is the revenge of the woman scorned. That, at least, is the American interpretation, though we tend to skew things to our advantage rather than use them as intended, to learn an important lesson or illustrate a point. Karma is Hindu. But, we’ve done a bang-up job of misappropriating “her” into western society. The above referenced quote has even been bastardized. It should read, “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor Hell a fury like a woman scorned.” And, no, it is not from the Bible. Also, it was not written by Shakespeare. It’s from another British dude, William Congreve. He wrote a play, considered a brilliant tragedy, called The Mourning Bride. This all went down in 1697, over 80 years after The Bard bid the world a fond farewell. And, this ends your lesson on karma. Because, trust me on this – listen closely, karma is bull poop. You heard it here first. Wanna know why? Because, I strive to be a good person on the daily, but I am a lowly sinner. I have hurt more people than I care to acknowledge. I have messed up the unmessupable. I have sliced people with words sharper than knives. I have middle fingered those who were only trying to save me. I have been a good person. I have been an awful person. I have been everything in between. And yet, here I sit, still trying, still plugging along, still offering up my pitiful penances and still praying for redemption and a kinder heart. Karma did not come back to me. She has not bitten me, nor has she scorned me, nor has she taught me any promised, painful lessons. In fact, I sit here crying tears, eating parmesan crisps, and drinking hot tea, in awe of how kind of a place the world really is – at least to me.
By the time you read this, the May 3rd sun will have risen and set in this world, yet again. I used to abhor May 3rd, at least since my daughter died. May 3rd was the day she graced the planet. In 1991, in a nondescript rent house in Mesquite, back before there was an I-20 through Forney, in the bedroom of a home where the owners often opted to reduce the rent rather than fix any of the problems, a still young mother (that is me) surrounded by grandmothers, a husband, and midwives, labored to bring her 3rd child into this world. There were so many things I did not know in that moment, when just around 7 am, my unimaginably adorable & chubby only daughter, with a thumb already inserted in mouth and a pulsating icepick cheek dimple, stole my heart. I did not know I would lose her 16 years later. I did not know how my life would be torn into shreds as her life ended. I did not know that I would sit at the kitchen island of a home she never lived in, typing these words that could hopefully help someone else. I didn’t know I would go from not really caring if my eyes opened in the morning to absolutely exulting in birds, sunsets, roses, and all the other mundane and tired musings in this life. Karma had nothing to do with this. God had everything to do with this.
Five years ago, something extraordinarily cathartic and awe-inspiring happened to me. My grandson was born…on May 3rd. Ezra Theodore entered the world with ginormous blue eyes, a cute button nose, and, brace yourselves, a pulsating cheek dimple that captured my heart. In fact, as I sat in my son’s home babysitting my granddaughter while this big event was going down, those were the first words from my son’s mouth. The phone call went something like this. “Mom, he’s here. He’s healthy. Laurali is fine. I had them check his heart 3 times. Mom, he has her dimple.” Karma is not a b word. Karma is just an ideology based on Hinduism. Karma is more of a form of the golden rule, less of a threat of getting bitten by angry women. God is real. Good exists. We don’t know why bad things happen. I have come to realize, of late, that we probably aren’t supposed to know why the bad things happen. I saw Michael J. Fox on television this morning, speaking to Jane Pauley on how he realizes his fight against Parkinson’s disease will end before he is ready to leave. He said, “With gratitude, optimism is sustainable.” I began chanting that over and over, as I searched all through the folds of my duvet, looking for my phone so I could write that down and tell you all. I think Isaiah 57:1-2 sums it all up well. I will quote the NLT version because it is best suited for the tattoo I intend to get. “Good people pass away: the godly often die before their time. But no one seems to care or wonder why. No one seems to understand that God is protecting them from the evil to come. For those who follow godly paths will rest in peace when they die.” So, from the person who did not fall victim to karma, though she probably deserved to, happy May 3rd. Happy birthday to sweet Ezra on Earth and my Chynna Nicole in Heaven. God bless us, everyone.
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