When I was in my late teens I was very much into God. I wanted to become exactly what God wanted me to become. Hedging my bets, I used to ask for proof. Proof would show up. I would ask for more proof, and more proof would happen.
Then one day I realized that no matter how much proof I asked for, and how many times in a row that proof would be given, proof made no real difference.
Trying to become something I was not did not make me a better person. I wasn’t any more popular. I never had a change of opinion on any subject that mattered. I realized little by little that asking for proof was like arguing with the wind. I could make a lot of noise arguing with the wind, but the wind would never care.
So it is with trying to become what I was not. Change did not make me perfect no matter how much proof there is to support my belief. Change did not really make my life better. Change did not really change anything that was important.
So it was with trying to be perfect. I chose to live the life I was living instead of the life I thought I should be living. I found that all trying to live the perfect life did for me was make me feel guilty.
I felt guilty about so much some days. I would feel guilty about how I felt about all the women I saw each day. I would feel guilty about wanting more in my life. I would feel guilty for not being satisfied with the way I looked. I would find myself feeling guilty for feeling guilty when I had so much and everyone else had so little. I started feeling like an pious fake, and that would make me feel guilty too.
Over the years I realized it is a study in futility to try to change me into something that may be more perfect for what I believe.
I am what I am, and that is enough. I am a perfect me in fact! Whether I am the picture perfect idea of what my belief system thinks I should be, or something less, I am what I am. What I am is the perfect me with my own uniquely perfect faults and flaws.
Competing with an ideal is a competition I could never win. God, and no one else should ever expect me to be different than what I am. If it was necessary for me to be someone else I would not be here to begin with. Someone else would be here, or I would be different. If I were indeed different what would be the point of being the original me to start with?
When I am gone from here…if I find out I am wrong about all this, I will have to cry foul. Nothing of such magnitude such as God – and I do not pretend to comprehend even imagine a sliver of the whole of God – would create or allow me to be created only to be changed into someone else. What would be the point?
But of course, this may be higher level spiritual thinking, or fooling myself, believing everything is perfect as it is?
Hmmm….or maybe Ommmm.