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Paradise Shift

March 23, 2020

26 of 47

We reap what we sow. Sometimes that means a bumper crop, and we did what we wanted to do, maybe more. But crops fail, too.

When things do what we want them to – the sun shines, your child gets into Harvard, your candidate is elected – the world is at your demand. It is all about you.

When things do not what you want them to do – it rains, your child does not get into Harvard, a possibility of viral infection changes everything – the world is some how set against you.

But the world does not care. For or against is – really it is all about you. And me. There is a reality that is wholly us, for good or ill. Not the world.

This AM I awoke to “80% Will Be Infected” and “Noble Laureate Says This Will End Soon”. The 80% was from a Governor, warning his flock. The ending of the End Times is by a biophysicist who correctly analyzed the China data to predict, almost precisely the spread there, that keeps us contained here.

In a place where facts are many, and are factual, but contradictory, we create Heaven and Hell. I think that state of not being either is called Purgatory.

I know that this state is also called Lent. A headline is “Minor Rabbi Killed”. The same fact set elicits another headline “Resurrection!”. Both are true to some. Both have facts, compromised by millennia. We are empowered to shift our Paradise to Control or to shift our Heaven to Faith.

I bought toothpaste yesterday, because I had the hope I will need it, and I could control the erosion of my teeth and disaster of my breath if I had it. But if I am still Six Feet from anyone else, the breath part will not matter for that tube. Perhaps several more.

But my teeth matter. What I know for me, matters. Although it is about me for me and the world cares nothing. What made the world cares. If a vast coincidence, any virus, asteroid, rapist is just part of the changing coincidence. In a place made with some outcome, Paradise is defined.

But Paradise shifts. My Paradise, right now, is with the Nobel Laureate. Who statistically fully ascribes to The Coincidental Universe. But since Hope is all about me, I can define it.

It is Faith that is harder, and Grace that is inscrutable.

Emily Dickinson knew that too:

What is — “Paradise” —

Who live there —

Are they “Farmers” —

Do they “hoe” —

Do they know that this is “Amherst” —

And that I — am coming — too —

 

Do they wear “new shoes” — in “Eden” —

Is it always pleasant — there —

Won’t they scold us — when we’re homesick —

Or tell God — how cross we are —

 

You are sure there’s such a person

As “a Father” — in the sky —

So if I get lost — there — ever —

Or do what the Nurse calls “die” —

I shan’t walk the “Jasper” — barefoot —

Ransomed folks — won’t laugh at me —

Maybe — “Eden” a’n’t so lonesome

As New England used to be!

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