"You're in such a sour mood. What's happened to you anyway? You had so much promise when you were younger and we expected much, much more from you. Didn't we Claudia? Genome, did your mom drop you on your head as a child?"
Claudia didn't look up from her phone, but she did snicker, and not in a flattering way.
The snarky comment came from Lupe, but you probably guessed that. I'd come to Native Grounds this Friday morning needing a quick pick-me-up but found Lupe here instead.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. She may offer only a half-dose of whatever it is she brings to the table, but she's always there for me. Something to be said for that.
"My mother did drop me on my head as a child," I said, "and it's not funny. Think what might have happened."
"That's what I'm thinking of, and I'm convinced that whatever might have happened did happen."
"Oh, shut up," I said but with the velvet glove because I didn't really want to offend. "Let me tell you why I'm so bent."
"Do," she said.
"I recently went to Ocean Isle, to the memorial sand dunes, to give the Universe a piece of my mind."
"The memorial sand dunes," Lupe explained for Claudia, "is what he calls the spot on the beach where he talks to the Universe and all the souls who've passed through the veil."
I waited patiently for Claudia's response. She first glanced in my direction and then at Lupe. She offered a sort of eyebrow-lifting hint of a shrug and then went back to the phone.
"You, stooge," Lupe said to me. "You thought you'd get tough with the Universe, didn't you, and I bet it didn't work, did it?"
"Stooge is right," I said. "Believe me, Lupe, I want to believe all that guff about the Universe watching my back and looking out for my best interests. I really do. I've tried. But it doesn't work for me."
"You misunderstand me," she said. "I didn't mean stooge as in someone who always becomes the butt of practical jokes."
"You don't?"
"I mean stooge as in one of the Three Stooges. Someone who, no matter how hard he tries, always looks silly in the end."
"A comedy ensemble from the 1940's," Lupe explained to Claudia who had looked up from her phone with a furrowed brow and a sideways glance at me. You do the translation.
I mused on her words because if you remember the recent post mentioned above, I gave it my best in Ocean Isle but my best just wasn't good enough. If you missed the post, you can find it by searching The Circular Journey for A Day of Reckoning.
"The Universe has been watching over you all your life," Lupe said to me.
"Are you completely looney?" she said. "Forget that, not a question. Of course, you're looney. Looney to the eyebrows, if I remember the full diagnosis.
"Lupe!" I said. "Rally around you, little geezer. You're supposed to be on my side."
"Look, Genome, you're not a bad guy. I'd say most people like you, just in small doses, right Claudia?"
Claudia didn't respond. Apparently, something big was trending on TikTok.
"That's right," Lupe continued. "You've had a fantastic life. You have wonderful stories that people love to hear. Even Claudia and I love to hear your stories, and we're the last people you'd expect to appreciate your antics."
Claudia looked up from her phone and looked directly at me with a crooked smile and nodded at me. It was a tiny nod. Barely perceptible but I got the message.
I was having a hard time taking it all in. I've heard about the limited bandwidth the mind has for processing information but this was information overload on a massive scale.
"You see, all those wonderful things that happened to you weren't the results of your plans or your actions. No, they occurred serendipitously."
"Stop right there," I said. "I know what you're going to say. I've said it myself when trying to convince myself that there's hope in the future. But believe me, you little half-measure, it's all random, accidents. Nothing more."
"You don't know what I'm going to say," she said. "Consider the earwig on the lanai this morning."
"How do you know about the earwig?" I said.
"What's an earwig?" said Claudia, finally a part of the conversation.
"Why did that earwig live to tell the story?" asked Lupe.
"Because I chose to let it live another day. Live and let live is my motto."
"I'll bet that earwig is telling its buddies the story right now. The friends are probably saying, You should be grateful that the Universe is looking out for you today. But the earwig is objecting. It's not the Universe, he's saying. "It's just random accidental events. I was lucky that's all."
"Now, I ask you," she said to me. "Was it just an accident that the earwig is still alive?"
"No," I said. "He survived because I decided to let him go. It was an intentional gift of kindness."
Lupe didn't respond right away. She watched my face in silence giving her words time to sink in for full effect. At least, that's my take on it. You may see it differently.
"Here's the deal, Genome. Consciousness. There's only one. It's Universal. The Universe desires physical experience. If you want my opinion, our brains are tuned into one or more channels where we get subtle suggestions and a little nudging. It's like tuning a radio."
"It's a box where people listen to music and talk shows," she said to Claudia.
"I know what a radio is," said Claudia.
"Bottom line," said Lupe. "The Universe has been looking out for you since you were fetal." Then as an afterthought, she added, "There's a chance you may still be."
"Fetal?" I said. "Are you calling me fetal?"
"Did I say that out loud?" she said.
"Fetal?" I said again because I didn't fully understand her point and was trying to hide the fact by appearing to be offended. Don't knock it. It may be a new concept to you but it seems to work for many.
"You'd think," Lupe said to Claudia, "that just having Ms. Wonder in your life would be enough to convince a person that they've been given a special ride."
Claudia put the phone down. She looked directly into my eyes as if to avoid any chance of misunderstanding. Then she nodded knowingly and that nod spoke volumes.