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Spirit, Words

I have to make a decision soon, and I am vexed.  I know how to make decisions, using various decision-making matrices and such.  But this decision I must make runs deep, it will potentially have lifetime ramifications.

But really, aren’t all decision such?  Each and every action has a consequence.  Philosophers and theologians argue over whether our intentionality in making decisions matters.

If I intend goodness for all with a given decision, does it matter if the decision is a poor one?  If I steal the show bread to feed the hungry, is it stealing, or is my action negated by the intended outcome?

Turning to the kind-hearted sages, the care givers, it seems our intentionality does matter.  Matters of the heart, the warm blood in the chest, the gulp and exhale of breath in goodness and sadness, matters.

I want to make a good decision on behalf of my family and while my logical, left-brain jousts with logical outcomes, in the end, it will be the warm mass of blood in my heart that decides.  I will set aside certain facts and premises and place my right hand on my chest, feel my heart beat, and decide with my soul.

I’m not incredibly superstitious, but I do watch trees, how they sway in the wind.  I was once running and two doves startled and flew in front of me, and I said, “I recognize you, Peace, thank you.”

My dog, named after a polar bear, is sleeping in the kitchen.  The way she curls her head and tucks it under her back left leg has meaning to me.

All beings speak, to the warm blood in the heart, the soul.  It’s amazing that hummingbirds refuse my logic, they zip away from my modus ponens with laughter on their silvery, invisible wings.

All this, and I know, no decision is made in a vacuum.  The others in my life must be able to put their hand on my chest, too.  Their essence must press in and my decision informed by their warmth.  This, too.

I sit here, then.  The cool, the wind, the tree, the dog, my warm blooded heart.  Yes, yes, I notice you racing mind, we are together, only I temper you, necessarily.

The thought I keep coming back to is the notion of Vocation.  I taught Freshmen Religion at at a Catholic school once upon a time and I taught the Sacraments.  The Sacrament of Marriage.  I taught Vocations, too, and the calling God places on our life.

God, the Creation, waits in loving patience for us to find ourselves.  So much love, and the Creation, Great Grace, roots for us.  Like a loving dog, the Creation is always on our team, unconditionally, agape.

The decision I must make then, will bend toward my Vocation, my calling, of marriage.  With this, family, the kids, our own community, my salvation.  I will listen more to my heart than mind, and I will read the beings.  I will allow the others in my life to place their hand on my chest and I will feel their essence as I decide.

It’s a natural decision-making matrix, but so hard to follow through.

Great Grace, be with me and still me.  Place your hand on my chest.

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