Monday, April 8, 2013
It started a long time ago. Probably because I was a lonely introvert, I spent a lot of time sitting under trees, being quizzical, observing bugs or sticks. I would pose Big Questions to the universe such as "Why does Tanya have such big boobs and I, like, don't?" And the answer would be in a cloud formation, or something equally opaque.
And I would feel this sensation in my feet and, give or take a day, I would look down and find a four-leaf-clover. Just like that. Ska-doosh, as Kung Fu Panda would say.
I felt that feeling in my feet yesterday, and today on my walk, I glanced at the base of a fence post, and yep. Four leafer. I put it with all the rest in the Book of Common Prayer, and I don't really know why there because, as Yoda would say, Believer I am not, but it seems right in that broad-based liberal Anglican blessing-of-the-animals way.
However, I wonder if faith has something to do it. I've never doubted. If you know me, confidence is a personality trait way off the beaten path, yet in this one thing I'm almost a braggart. "Give me a patch of grass," I tell people.
What I've realized is it's no miracle. It's never answered any of my questions.
The answer is: few people are scanning the grass; yet I am looking for four leaf clovers all the time, but with a Zen-style, meditative non-looking that I've somehow accidentally ridonkulously honed to clover and it's incredibly effective (and would no doubt be useful in other areas of my life if I could make it transfer) like a highly trained Japanese archer is open to one path and no other: their arrow hitting the mark. Dead-on. Doubt-free.