Universal Discrepancies

I gave up coffee for lent in a characteristic fit of self-denial. In return, I had hoped for a surge of positive energy, a karmic pat on the back for a job well done. Instead, I got bronchitis, had a severe asthma flare up for the first time in seven years, followed by the flu and strep throat; it would have been a nice time to have health insurance. Since I hadn't been seriously ill in almost two years, I accepted that I had some of that coming.

But the spell of unemployment coupled with the foreboding letter from the IRS complaining that they found a discrepancy in my 2008 return? By time I found out that I had an even larger tax liability for 2009 (since apparently I'm required to report ALL the money I earned), I didn't really care about my rent increase, my malfunctioning computer or the engine light situation in my ride. I had already reached my overkill threshold and was still reasonable calm. Yeah, yeah, whatever, life is hard, gotcha. *wink* But then a family member had a potentially fatal medical emergency, and my control faltered. I began fantasizing about flipping the bird to the universe and many of its inhabitants.

It was like my friend's complaint about the movie "Precious". It simply was just too much. I just wanted tune it all out, which led to my spending a lot of time watching Looney Tunes, bonding with my kindred loser Wile E. Coyote.

I admit that I have no "middle". These circumstances reminded me that there is seldom balance in my life. My cup runneth over or I choketh on a cupful of dust. All the same, even with the delayed karmic gratification, I am apt to believe that small acts of self-denial are good for for me, good for everyone in general. Suffering is an inevitable part of life, so maybe if you pick your torment it is easier to bare than the pain inflicted on you by the unseen hand. But the hand is essentially the house in Vegas. It sees all, it knows all, and no matter how clever or lucky you think you are, it usually wins.

PBS ran a documentary on the life of Buddha last week. I have a philosophical crush of Buddhism; I associate it with a yummy, free-spirited, almost bohemian form of self-denial. Then the specter of "moderation" crept into the program, one of Siddhartha's first lessons learned during his six year long journey towards enlightenment. The universe seems really hung up on this principle, so begrudgingly, I embrace this assignment.

Still I wonder, what will I do with balance if I actually bother to find it? And where will I even put it? Perhaps on the mantle of a consistently organized, productive, and fulfilling life. BlaHhh! I'd rather choketh on dust.