Tuesday, March 29, 2016

Light switches

Of all the things I'm terrible at--linear time, for example--I may be worst at light switches.

St. John's, Waterbury, where I was for 21 years (if I'd been born there I would have been old enough to vote, drink and smoke when I left!) I never quite got the details of light switches, especially in the church, down.

One day, before a Wednesday Eucharist, I was trying to figure out which of the 20 or more switches turned on the lights in the chapel. Mary, who was blind, was already there for the service.

I tried a dozen switches or so and then called out to her from the back of the church, "Mary, is that enough light in the chapel?"

"I couldn't tell you, Father," she said, not missing a beat, "but thanks for asking...."

We've lived in this house since 1989--27 years come September--and we have lots less switches than St. John's does.

But tonight, shutting off lights to go upstairs to bed, I went from the kitchen to the living room and reached to my right to turn off the light--and the switch is, as it has always been, on the left.

Two switches are by the door to the back porch. I meant to turn off the back porch light and plunged myself into darkness on the first try.

Then, at the back steps there are two switches. One turns on the overhead light in the kitchen (like the one by the porch door does) and one controls the overhead light near the fireplace. I meant to turn off the light in the kitchen and instead turned on the light near the fireplace.

Zero for three, all in one night.

Light switches and Linear Time--what is the connection?

I don't know, but I'll ponder it.

Now I'm going to turn off the light in my office (only one switch, a cinch) and walk down the hallway to our bedroom and turn off the light in the upstairs hall (only one switch available again) so I'll get those right.

But when there is a choice of two, I'll always push the wrong one.

Just the way I am.

Someone looking for the Light and unable to control it.

Ponder that.

A lot like life, I'd say....

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some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.