A New Year, Namaste, and "Yes Virginia, God does control the traffic"

Some say I'm a patient man.

I'm not sure patience comes naturally, but it can be cultivated. One of my core spiritual beliefs is that things happen for a reason, that the universe is far too complex for us to fully grasp why things happen. And that sometimes bad things happen for good reasons that we don't always understand. I'm okay with that. The concept has helped me not dwell on the negative. And it's helped me be more patient.

There's a story I heard a long time ago, where a man gets a knock at his door. A police officer standing in the rain tells him that he should evacuate his home because torrential downpours could cause flash flooding. He calmly tells the officer that he's a religious man, and he's confident that God will protect him. Soon, the rising flood waters force the man to the upstairs level of his house. A Coast Guard boat cruises by his window, sees the man, and calls to him to come aboard. The man calls back that God will protect him. Finally, he's forced on to his roof as the waters swell. An Army helicopter flies by and drops a rope. He waves the helicopter away, saying God will protect him. The waters rise and he drowns. In heaven, he goes to God and asks why, when he was such a steadfast and devout follower, did God let him die. And God said "Let you die? I sent a cop, a boat, and a helicopter!"

When we drove home from Flagstaff Wednesday evening, snow covered Highway 17 and traffic averaged about 20 miles an hour. The kids complained incessantly, despite our attempts to placate them with repetitions of how we can't do anything about it, how we have to be patient, etc. The whole time we puttered along at that snail's crawl, I kept thinking of the fact that three of our four tires were worn-out and in need of replacing. Not the kind of tires I want to be driving on ice with. And perhaps the slow traffic was a blessing in disguise. Maybe the universe (God, Jesus, the Force, insert your own spiritual interpretation here) gave us that traffic to slow me down so I wouldn't skid on the ice. Who knows? I do know that I was anxious to get home, and if there had been no traffic, I likely would have been dangerously cruising 5 mph over the speed limit, despite my awareness of the condition of my tires and possibility of icy on the road.

I took the plunge and explained this idea to Bella, who was especially disgruntled about the slow traffic. My explanation ran a little too long, and it didn't have a tidy resolution, getting prematurely drowned out by renewed complaints, the radio, etc. But later on, Bella thoughtfully asked me "Why does God want us to be in traffic?"

In other news, the new year began here in Arizona about two hours ago. We spent the evening at a friend's house with several other families, eating tamales and red velvet cake, playing games, and letting all the kids hang out together. We came home around 11. After watching the ball drop with Sofia, Cristina and I christened the new year with a little internet-guided new-age meditation, complete with chanting the mantra "Om" and everything. Hey, if it's good enough for Paul McCartney, I'll give it a shot. I'm sorry to say, though, that I fell asleep. By the time we brushed teeth and got in bed, I was wide awake, thinking of ideas to write in my blog. I knew if I didn't get up and write, most of the ideas would leave me during the night. So here I am.

I thought about New Year's resolutions. I guess many blogs will be filled with them today. One that came to mind for me was to abolish creative envy. That is, the feeling of envy you get when you read great writing and feel "Why can't I write that well?" or hear an amazing piece of music and think "I wish I had composed that." I suffer from this creative envy now and then, but I don't want to anymore. I will make a conscious effort to revel in the creative beauty that I'm lucky enough to encounter. I will use it to remind myself that I too am creative and the great thing about creativity is that it's a well everyone can dip their bucket into, and everything you pull up out of it is good and none of it is bad. Just different.

That thought reminded me of one of my favorite expressions: namaste. The light that's in you is in me too. I see your excellent word choice in that sentence, Cormac McCarthy. All that is best and highest in me salutes all that is best and highest in you. I honor the place from which you pull your written images, the place where you get your ideas and dialogue, the place from which you summon words that I've never head before but sound so good. When you are in that place in you, and I am in that place in me, we are One.

Man, that's an uplifting thought! Think about your favorite songwriter. If you too create music, you are, in a way, connected to that songwriter. You both share something special. It's similar to parenting. When you have parented a child, you have created something amazing that someone who has no children cannot fully comprehend. And no matter how differently you may choose to raise your child, you share something with all other parents. I want to honor that connection more, in my heart and in my head. Namaste.

I'll leave you with a more concrete resolution. I'm going to finish my book this year. And as I complete the first draft and then the rewrites, I won't be comparing the quality of my writing to authors I respect and revere, which is always a confidence-killer. I'll be submitting my contribution to the process, my bucket from the well. And I encourage you all to do the same.

You don't have to write, but do something. Creativity is not like blue eyes. It's not something some people are born with and some aren't. Paint, sing, color with crayons, dance in your kitchen, make a video, take a photo, bang out a beat on your pots and pans, write a one-line poem and stick it on the fridge, or better yet, in your child's lunchbox, write the Great American Novel, drop the bucket down with a splash and pull it up. What's in it?