BIPOLAR

StillnessIf I’m not bi-polar, at least life on earth is.  Perhaps it’s just the warfare between the human flesh and the spirit that resembles a pulling between high and low.  As we strive to center our attentions on things above, eternal stuff, everlasting hope in Christ Jesus our Lord, there are still times that are low.  You rarely hear that these are normal, to be expected occurrences, and yet they have been a part of my life and I recognize the pattern.  There are days when your  insides say this is not good.   You don’t want to get out of bed (inner voice: this is not good), you can’t accomplish two things on the to-do list because you just want to sit down and stare out the window (inner voice:  this is not good), you cry to see a squirrel squished on the road (inner voice:  this is not good), you don’t want to talk to people (inner voice:  this is not good), etc.  That was yesterday.

Today I woke up and when time to rise up, I swung myself out of bed, no problemo (felt good).  I engaged in my business before setting out to do errands (felt good).  I took advantage of  a clearance sale (felt good).  I celebrated feeling good with a honey walnut cream cheese on honey grain bagel at Bruegger’s (felt good).  I continued that celebration at nearby Starbucks, cashing in my earned reward for my favorite drink (felt good).  I forgot to mention that I got one of my favorite parking spots at Starbucks, you know, the one that is across from the lined out space between two handicapped parking places so you can pull right out when you leave?! (felt good).  Now that I think about that, it’s probably an illegal maneuver (felt good but not good).  I made my way to a normally chaotic Get Go station to fill up with gas and pulled right in and up to a pump (felt good).  At this point I have to say that the $72 spent there did not feel so good.  I left Get Go with the crazy mind to turn left, which I did without a hitch and was even greeted by a green light to keep on turning onto Rt. 18 (felt good).  I noticed traffic backed up on the 77 exit ramp because a truck with an over-sized load was making his way around the bend escorted by state highway patrol cars.  I passed by the exit and watched in the rear view mirror as one of the patrol cars pulled across route 18, stopping traffic for all those that were behind me (felt good, at least for me).  So it was today.smiley-face

There is no harm in any of the good feelings that I enjoyed today, but I recognize that in them there is no lasting power either.  I may wake up tomorrow with weights on my arms and the “felt goods” of today will not lighten my load tomorrow.  On the other hand, the days of the “this is not good voice” can be days of introspection and spiritual contemplation, prayer if you will, and revelation and realignment.

A couple verses come to mind and a lengthy but relative Chinese proverb that my buddy shared with me a few years ago.

Ecclesiastes 7:3 

Sorrow is better than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better.

Ecclesiastes 7:13-22

13 Consider what God has done:

Who can straighten
    what he has made crooked?
14 When times are good, be happy;
    but when times are bad, consider this:
God has made the one
    as well as the other.
Therefore, no one can discover
    anything about their future.


The Old Man and his Horse (a.k.a. Sai Weng Shi Ma)

Once there was an old man who lived in a tiny village. Although poor, he was envied by all, for he owned a beautiful white horse. Even the king coveted his treasure. A horse like this had never been seen before – such was its splendor, its majesty, its strength.

People offered fabulous prices for the steed, but the old man always refused. “This horse is not a horse to me,” he would tell them. “It is a person. How could you sell a person? He is a friend, not a possession. How could you sell a friend.” The man was poor and the temptation was great. But he never sold the horse.

One morning he found that the horse was not in his stable. All the village came to see him. “You old fool,” they scoffed, “we told you that someone would steal your horse. We warned you that you would be robbed. You are so poor. How could you ever protect such a valuable animal? It would have been better to have sold him. You could have gotten whatever price you wanted. No amount would have been too high. Now the horse is gone and you’ve been cursed with misfortune.”

The old man responded, “Don’t speak too quickly. Say only that the horse is not in the stable. That is all we know; the rest is judgment. If I’ve been cursed or not, how can you know? How can you judge?”

The people contested, “Don’t make us out to be fools! We may not be philosophers, but great philosophy is not needed. The simple fact that your horse is gone is a curse.”

The old man spoke again. “All I know is that the stable is empty, and the horse is gone. The rest I don’t know. Whether it be a curse or a blessing, I can’t say. All we can see is a fragment. Who can say what will come next?”

The people of the village laughed. They thought that the man was crazy. They had always thought he was a fool; if he wasn’t, he would have sold the horse and lived off the money. But instead, he was a poor woodcutter, and old man still cutting firewood and dragging it out of the forest and selling it. He lived hand to mouth in the misery of poverty. Now he had proven that he was, indeed, a fool.

After fifteen days, the horse returned. He hadn’t been stolen; he had run away into the forest. Not only had he returned, he had brought a dozen wild horses with him. Once again, the village people gathered around the woodcutter and spoke. “Old man, you were right and we were wrong. What we thought was a curse was a blessing. Please forgive us.”

The man responded, “Once again, you go too far. Say only that the horse is back. State only that a dozen horses returned with him, but don’t judge. How do you know if this is a blessing or not? You see only a fragment. Unless you know the whole story, how can you judge? You read only one page of a book. Can you judge the whole book? You read only one word of one phrase. Can you understand the entire phrase?”

“Life is so vast, yet you judge all of life with one page or one word. All you have is one fragment! Don’t say that this is a blessing. No one knows. I am content with what I know. I am not perturbed by what I don’t.”

“Maybe the old man is right,” they said to one another. So they said little. But down deep, they knew he was wrong. They knew it was a blessing. Twelve wild horses had returned. With a little work, the animals could be broken and trained and sold for much money.

The old man had a son, an only son. The young man began to break the wild horses. After a few days, he fell from one of the horses and broke both legs. Once again the villagers gathered around the old man and cast their judgments.

“You were right,” they said. “You proved you were right. The dozen horses were not a blessing. They were a curse. Your only son has broken both his legs, and now in your old age you have no one to help you. Now you are poorer than ever.”

The old man spoke again. “You people are obsessed with judging. Don’t go so far. Say only that my son broke his legs. Who knows if it is a blessing or a curse? No one knows. We only have a fragment. Life comes in fragments.”

It so happened that a few weeks later the country engaged in war against a neighboring country. All the young men of the village were required to join the army. Only the son of the old man was excluded, because he was injured. Once again the people gathered around the old man, crying and screaming because their sons had been taken. There was little chance that they would return. The enemy was strong, and the war would be a losing struggle. They would never see their sons again.

“You were right, old man,” They wept. “God knows you were right. This proves it. Your son’s accident was a blessing. His legs may be broken, but at least he is with you. Our sons are gone forever.”

The old man spoke again. “It is impossible to talk with you. You always draw conclusions. No one knows. Say only this. Your sons had to go to war, and mine did not. No one knows if it is a blessing or a curse. No one is wise enough to know. Only God knows.”

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About found4sure

I like to write. I think too much!
This entry was posted in Life and Times, Mental Health and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to BIPOLAR

  1. thelensoflaurajo says:

    Way to find joy all day long, Aunt Robin. I’ve needed a dose of it this week!!

    • found4sure says:

      It was easy to find joy today because everything was flowing the way I like it. The most meaningful joy for me was recognizing the joy in the previous day that did NOT FEEL worthy of joy at the time.

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