27 April 2020 Blog 4 – Let Go and Let God…And Then What? continue Chapter 1 …and then nothing

So, what does it mean to Let Go and Let God? What the heck do you do with that? Do you do nothing? Do you sit back in your lazy boy chair playing with the TV remote control and wait? Do you … bla bla bla … on and on, the questions swirl around in your head like a tornado.

Why is Delilah roaming the rose field? You can create your own reasons as to why Delilah is roaming the rose field. You can come up with all the answers you want, but you will never know why. You will never know why until the creator of this story tells you why Delilah is roaming the rose field. But you are free to create your own reasons, your own story as to why Delilah is doing so.

Delilah’s life can take many different turns depending on the story you decide to create for her. She can have a happy life or a sad life or a boring life or a “whatever” life. Does it matter? If it doesn’t matter, why not? If it does matter, why does it matter? What difference does it make? And why does it make a difference? Who and what decides what kind of a life Delilah experiences? Who cares? What kind of life can Delilah have in a tiny village of four people, eighteen cats and one street, anyway?

And then what? That is what you want to know. This question has lead me to much confusion and frustration and anger. It has led me to think “what the f … .k?????” Exactly that! Over and over again. How does this all work? What am I supposed to be doing? This real story started not so long ago when I jumped into this human body, this female human body. Just like you, Isqueezed my way out of my mother’s womb. Just like you, I have a father. Just like you, life happened. Or did it? Does it? What happens?

Despite my different experiences and adventures in my life as this human female, I doubt I am much different from you, and you are just as much different from me. How different can we be? How similar are we? Is it our contrast that makes it interesting to get to know one another? Or to ignore one another? Or to hate one another? Or to kill one another?

I cannot imagine there being too much contrast in Farr with only four people, eighteen cats and one street. They either get along like a house on fire, or cannot stand the sight of one another. This may be why Delilah is roaming the rose field. Who knows? I am just making this up as I go along this journey with you.

And then what? That is the question. Is it not? I have very few memories of my childhood. I have no memories of me laughing or playing or any real exciting childhood memories. I do have some photos of my childhood. I am sad in all of them. I am angry in most of them. And I am stupid most of the time. Whose fault is that? Yeah, whose fault is that?

I think I need to say that again and louder! WHOSE FAULT IS THAT?!!!!!! Yes, I am emphasizing my question with multiple exclamation marks. That is a sure way to get an answer. Is it not? Again, what the f … .? Someone has to take the blame for this! I carried this shit with me my entire life! Until … and then what? Which didn’t come to me immediately. Like I said, in case I didn’t make myself clear the first time. I CARRIED THIS SHIT WITH ME MY ENTIRE LIFE!

Does the capital letter emphasize my dissatisfaction with all of this? I just want to be certain that I am very clear on this point. As I am sure that you have made yourself extremely clear with your dissatisfaction of your childhood pain and suffering, and that, with absolutely no doubt, this must be someone else’s fault. That it’s someone else’s fault that you carry this pile of faults on your shoulders every moment of your life. With every breath you take, the load of fault presses down ever so heavily on your shoulders, to the point where each of the vertebrae in your spine crash down against one another. Then you have a sore neck, sore back, and on and on … But that is because it’s someone else’s fault. And then what?

Let’s go back to Delilah and the tiny village of Farr.

Delilah roamed the rose field. It was a beautiful cool autumn morning. The sky was blue. The sun shined bright. The tree branches shined bright with orange, red, yellow and brown leaves. The trees wrapped around the village, along the edges of the rose field. Two large trees stood tall on either side of the rose field. The branches braided together creating a vibrant arch of leaves. The braided archway was the only way in and out of the rose field.

Now, you may be asking yourself ‘how can there be a rose field in autumn?’. My answer to this question – It’s my story and I can create it any way I decide. Why not have a rose field in autumn? Whether the rose bushes have produced flowers or are dormant and waiting for spring and summer, it’s still a rose field, unless someone decides to cut down and remove all of the rose bushes to create something completely new and different instead of this rose field, like a concrete shopping mall, for example. The latter can be useful. It all depends on who is creating the story.

But truly, I should not have to explain or justify the creation of my story to you or anyone. And that goes for you as well. Before you learned it was autumn in the story, did you even ask yourself if the rose field had roses or not? Did you just know that there were roses ready to be plucked from their bushes and ready to be bundled up into a bouquet? Since the scene was set in a rose field, you probably assumed that the season was between April and September. That is an easy and sensible assumption to make. Or maybe you made no assumptions and just saw Delilah in the rose field. Again, there is not right or wrong answer. It’s not a question. But ask yourself this question. Which of these two make you feel ‘good’. To make an assumption with a great possibility of a false outcome, one that is not even close to what you conjured up in your head? Or, does it make you feel better to trust your gut about what you first felt? Whatever that was for you.

As I said, it was a beautiful autumn sunny morning. Delilah licked the dew off the grass. She walked along the edge of the field, looking at the centre of the field. The edge of the rose field was as far as she ever roamed. She always looked out at the centre of the field where a small pond glittered in the sunlight. Leaves floated in the water. Her yellow house at the end of Only Street was also on the outskirt of the village. It was very convenient and very comfortable for Delilah to live on the outskirt of the village because it was close to the edge of the gate that led to the rose field.