Yes, I’m digging deep.
As I walked by them yesterday, I was reminded of a time when she left them at the curb for four days.
Go on. Guess.
Not at all.
It seems she has a rule. Her husband brings in the garbage cans. Or someone else. But never her.
None of my beeswax. Fine, fine, fine. But it got me thinking . . .
. . . about people who make and follow what seem to be some very simple (minded) rules.
Garbage cans are not my neighbor’s purview, obviously. So, when her husband was out of town for the week, hers sat.
I cannot help but wonder, what would she do if he left her? Would the cans sit for years on end until a suitable suitor settled in and took care of the can hauling?
And how is that any way to live?
I wonder how she came to this very absolute stance on garbage cans, of all things.
In similar fashion, an old friend from Catholic school still eschews eating meat every single Friday during Lent. This is a rule of the church. The nuns always told us it would make us more holy because we were denying ourselves something. Sacrificing.
But my friend? She doesn’t even like meat. No sacrifice there.
I ask her why she requires her kids to follow this rule.
“Because it’s a church rule, so we should follow it,” she tells me.
“Do you know that rule was really put in place by the pope centuries ago to help out the fishing industry in Italy?” I ask. “It had nothing to do with being holy.”
I stopped there. Again, none of my beeswax.
But something sticks in my craw. Garbage cans and forgoing your carnivore habit one day per week are pretty innocuous.
This type of thinking is along the lines of . . .
. . . . I cannot bend to accommodate change. We have rules and we follow them, so the stinky garbage cans will be waiting for you when you get off of the plane. Welcome home, honey. Rules are more important than my thoughtfulness.
. . . the church tells me it’s wrong to be gay so I can no longer be friends with someone who is. Buh bye, childhood pal. You’re on your own to burn in hell. It’s a rule. . . . and rules are not to be questioned.
Of course, in the spirit of this post, I’m oversimplifying.
Rules are certainly comforting for little lost sheep. Not so much for the rest of us.
I envy you your simplicity, oh you for whom the world is so clearly laid out in black and white.
But not your simple (mindedness).