If Anyone’s Crazy, It’s Not Me
I’ve been riding the bus a lot lately, ever since my Toyota Plug-In Hybrid Prius suddenly accelerated towards the edge of a cliff while I was parking. As you know, my Prius is something that is sacred to me, so this was an event that profoundly affected me at a spiritual level. If the thing I chose had some flaws, then is there something wrong with my choice?
Anyway, I was on the bus the other day, and there was a crazy guy on it. I mean, crazier than usual for Vancouver. He was talking out loud to either no one or everyone, and it was making people pretty uncomfortable. At first, I just wanted him to shut up, but I was fascinated by the fact that while he was crazy, he was speaking some important truths. He was obsessively talking about recent wrongdoings in the Catholic Church, and the quality of men who would do such a thing. Of course, to call them recent would be a misnomer, since the institution of the church has long been unable to kick the habit of abusing people. You know, sort of like someone who can’t seem to ever give up smoking.
So, the problem with the man on the bus wasn’t that he was saying things that were crazy, it was that he was crazy in how he was saying them. He’d found the truth, but had wrapped himself up in it so that he appeared to see nothing else, such as whether or not his utterances were having any positive effect for anyone, including himself. Obviously, his motor was not firing on all cylinders, but to a lesser degree, I can see how many people exhibit this same behavior.
Haven’t you met a person who comes to a new truth about themselves, and instead of incorporating that new truth in a gentle way, they abandon everything else of themselves, as if they were waiting for a way to escape their own skin? They find out they like the color green, and suddenly, you won’t find another color on them, and their favorite topic of conversation is how other people are so misguided by their preference of reds and blues. The irony is that these people think that they have a sense of themselves, when they clearly have very little. Their eyes are focused at one spot of river, and when something floats by that they recognize as theirs, they dive in, pull it back to shore, and then stare it like a crazed raccoon.
I don’t know why this was so much on my mind. The truth is, I’ve felt a little off-balance without being able to drive my Prius. I mean, that Plug-In Hybrid Prius is everything to me. It says everything about who Dr. Matt is: smart, efficient, and sexy. It’s not that I don’t have it anymore or that it’s out of order, but how can you trust something that suddenly accelerates out of your control? I’ve loved everything about that car, but obviously, it’s hard to love something that is going to start behaving in an unpredictable manner. If Dr. Matt makes extremely wise choices, and he does, then what does it say when one of those choices has some unanticipated consequences?
I know what you’re thinking, and I agree. With such a dilemma, the only logical conclusion is that there’s something terribly amiss with the Universe.
Just My Thoughts,