I guess that can be said for most people (most don't believe that 1+2=17 or that "asnjk" is a color, for example) so I will rephrase this: I don't believe in a lot of things that many people do believe.
This blog entry isn't about God or extraterrestrial life or Sasquatch.
It's about things happening for a reason. It's about that which doesn't kill us making us stronger. It's about having a soul mate. It's about fate and destiny and kismet. (Evidently it's about synonyms, as it turns out.)
It's also about light bulbs.Before I get into the light bulb part of it, I'll get back to the lofty stuff.
I don't believe that we are foretold to do things or to be things--either for good or bad. I think that the universe is a series of mathematical likelihoods and, while we can barely scratch the surface of the math (especially people like me, whose math dominance atrophied as his teen years progressed) it doesn't change the fact that predisposition is not the same as predestination.
So, with this in mind, when I hear things like, "Things happen for a reason," I smile sadly.
I have a friend who was diagnosed with throat cancer this week. I have another friend who lost her father this week. Another lost her grandfather last week. Death and decay and cells breaking down.
Obviously I've been more fun than a barrel of monkeys lately.
The thing is that for all of this doom and gloom (almost all of it, let be said, not directly impacting me), I managed to have a minor epiphany this evening. More on that in a moment.
A couple of years ago, I had a bit of a cold. To be honest, I can't recall how much of it was me really feeling under the weather and how much of it was just a nap-desiring body grayout. In either case, someone in my office said I should pump myself full of Airborne, which is a supplement that allegedly boosts the immune system. Another coworker scoffed and said it was all a placebo response.Which wasn't what I was expecting the guy to say. I knew he wasn't a fan, but I was expecting him to say "placebo effect".
Rather than taking some silly supplement, I got rid of my sore throat (or alleged sore throat; I can't recall) by thinking about that saying. Breaking it down and breaking the phrase I'd become so accustomed to and whether it made sense. And it makes a lot of sense.
If the placebo is inert, it can't project anything. It can't affect unilaterally. A placebo match won't burn trees--that seems to be the essence of what "placebo" means. A placebo medicine should not have an impact on us.
But we often have a response to a placebo... and that's why I currently use "placebo response" now, instinctively, and it sounds weird when I say, "placebo effect"... because that doesn't make sense to me.
Back to light bulbs.
I live alone now. My apartment is far too big for my dog, my cat, and myself. I don't entertain many visitors, and while I make fair living there's simply no reason for me to be spending as much as I do on rent. I have a plan to move out, but a lease is a lease. And the apartment keeps seeing stuff wearing out. Death and decay even impacts inorganic items, and light bulbs are no different.
A couple of weeks ago I noticed one bulb upstairs was out. Then I noticed one in the bathroom. Then another. And then, last weekend, a fourth went out. It was getting dark and I knew that another couple of lights going out would cause me to walk up the stairs in the dark and/or shower by tablet light. I still gave it a week, though, to see if I'd lose a couple more.After not losing any more, I decided to hit up the store on the way home from work tonight. Four new bulbs, heavily subsidized because they're energy efficient, and I was happy. I considered buying extras, but I thought I'd reached an equilibrium and walked out with the four I needed.
I got home, opened the door, turned on the kitchen light and...
*POP*
The light went out. A fifth light when I had only bought four.
Immediately, I thought, "This is a metaphor, right? Or Murphy's Law? Or God punishing me for making fun (deep, deep inside my own mind) for a dude who wouldn't scoot over on the bus so I was halfway into the aisle on the ride home..."
In any case, it took the wind out of my sails. I walked the dog, and thought about it.
I decided that the light was not destined to burn out. It was not my fate to be one lightbulb short.
What happens to us does not always have an effect as much as it gives us an opportunity to respond.
I chose--I choose--to smile when I walk upstairs now. It is well lit. All of the bulbs are working.
Maybe not forever, for sure, and I still have one burned out in the kitchen. But it's OK. I can always buy more tomorrow.
And if another bulb goes out, even if it doesn't make me stronger or even if it didn't happen for a reason, I will remember that it's just a light bulb and light bulbs don't work forever.
