Morning Mysticism

The days are shrinking. The sun rising later. Opportunities return for early morning photography.
Questions sidle up to me in the morning light.
Discordant ones. Persistent ones. Questions that don’t always suggest themselves in the mundane, but attach themselves to times and places of natural beauty. Maybe my inner mystic feels less inhibited at these times.
A whole lot of things don’t make sense to me early in the morning.
For instance, when we look behind the curtain, why is this world full of beauty and sunrises not all that nice a place?
Why, to focus on one local example, do we need to be careful about road rage on our roads? Aren’t we all brothers and sisters? It’s only a few minutes extra, or only a careless lane change, or only a red light for goodness sake. It’s not like I planned to insult your virility.
How is it that our best efforts to protect ourselves from terrorism can be used against us by a determined demented pilot who flies himself and his passengers into a mountainside? Is absolute safety an illusion?
Why are grotesque murders, rape, and ethnic cleansing still weapons of choice in the worldwide war of ideas? Aren’t we enlightened? Haven’t we evolved? With all our technological toys and diversions, aren’t we free of the primitive drives that lead us to murder and maim and act without humanity?
When we find our safe, predictable little worlds shaken and stirred by a reality too brutal to accommodate, we can be forgiven for wondering. Is our belief in ourselves and our technology enough to save us?
I think back 25 years to the time when the Berlin Wall was pulled down. The end of history they said. Nuclear war henceforth only a memory. A new dawn in human affairs (not the extra-marital kind) had surely begun to wash over the world. Diplomatic allegiances seemed all a bit passé in the new world order. Surely right and justice would now triumph. Humanity’s greatest hour was upon us.
Except it was all a crock, wasn’t it?
The massacres didn’t stop. The atrocities began to shock us in ways not previously thought possible. They became more blatant as the perpetrators raised their collective finger to this supposed new world order.
Why is evil so obviously rampant in our world? If evil were truly a random occurrence it seems to me there should be enough good around to neutralize it. Why does evil seem to hold the best cards? Good does not always triumph. Bad guys finish first a lot of the time.
What has happened to us?
Is there any justice? Are there any rules that can’t be trashed at the altar of personal convenience? Does anything make sense?
Standing in the calm of a morning like this one I do not doubt it all makes sense somehow, somewhere, sometime. I just wish it would all make sense in a nicely understandable way to me!
After all, why should I be left to wander and wonder? If there is a plan, shouldn’t I be in on it? I could stamp my feet I guess and hold my breath until it was all revealed. Whoever pulls the control levers; the celestial project manager; God; The laws of Physics; (insert your prefered diety); could then rest easy that I had given my assent.
But that’s not the way it works.
On this beautiful cool calm morning, when the world is all new again around me, an answer of sorts suggests itself. I am most assuredly not the pivot on which the Earth turns. It does not all need to make sense to me. I am part of the whole, but I did not make it, or plan it, and this whole certainly feels no obligation to conform to my sensitivities. Why should it?
I am not the maker. I am the made.
I turn away a little less troubled by questions I can not answer, comfortable in the light of the pre-dawn, knowing with a quiet certainty that I matter to God, whether or not I understand why.

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