Waste or Largess and yet.

I few minutes ago I had a brilliant insight into life and the universe.  It may or may not interest you, so I won’t bore you.

It struck me deeply.  I sensed two possibilities for my insight.  It resonated through me.  The insight gave me joy.   The resulting feeling suspended me “up” in a long, draining week for seconds.

Again, I see two possibilities for my insight, for a depth of feeling and realization words fail to convey.

Possibility one.  All we are today results from a profoundly long series of random outcomes, against the Second Law of Thermodynamics, gathering star-dust from millions of extinguished stars to donate elements farther down rows of our Periodic Table to fire-form a planet within a hair’s breadth of distance from a correct sun needed for incredibly sophisticated RNA and DNA to take on a job of blindly evolving past millions of blind alleys to get to us.  “Us” who can write, laugh, love, hear and even sometimes understand each other; and die.  All of my memories, depths, and sharing now a meal for worms blindly eating either my corpse or plants enriched by my ashes.  In a generation, at most, any who interacted or shared with me; join me in oblivion, as will we all.  A remorseless universe neither taking note, caring or laughing.

Possibility two.  A God described as having infinite capacity created the thought of me before assembling the iron and nickel for a core for Earth.  He brought my mother from her birth family to an adopted family so she could marry and unite again with my father after two miscarriages to birth me.  And so, minutes ago, this God shared my brilliant insight into life more intimately than even my wife could hope for.  And if all that’s written of Him is good, when I die I am resurrected out of time into eternity to get this — share that insight with Him and possibly at the same depth with those purchased by His grace — around a dinner beyond compare before we get back to work.

How it all works is above my pay grade.

Possibility one says as a terrorist dies, it holds equal lack of value with the deaths of Jesus, Gandhi — the named and the forgotten.  From nothing formed, and to nothing returned.

Possibility two gives me Hope to hold to values. I choose P two.  Probably as it demands more of me in faith, giving to, making a difference, loving and weeping — living.  If Hope is a crutch, then inscribe mine with the name for me in Heaven I don’t even know, yet.

See?  I can now say, “yet”!

Smaller Giants

S Cubed has the same name as his father and grandfather.  So his name is S-S but if they extended the names back three generations, it would be S-S-S or S Cubed!

He is brilliant.  Has a PhD and is back for an MSE in Entrepreneurship to craft businesses that make a difference in his beloved country.  I have watched an astonishing growth, evolution in him over the semester.

He came frustrated with the impotence and escapism he finds in many from his country.  Many students if they make it to America and can stay, then the family is thrilled that “one has made it” out of the maelstrom.  Their maelstrom is his beloved country.

He also arrived in my class with a deep understanding of issues, and an equally deep sense that his solutions needed to address challenges on all their levels, at all the root causes.  That connected and grew his challenges to the level of “poverty” and “education” the usual list of suspects.  All so large that jousting with them only leaves Sancho Panza mortified and Don Quixote befuddled.

Enter ‘better questions’.  I simply said I would not waste another hour on “the discussion” of such massive problems.  I asked, if he might scale a question down far enough that it becomes  “a giant you could kill?”

He wrestled all by himself for thirty minutes and shrunk down to “infant mortality”.  By the time that Bridgette returned to the table he had five things that we could package and provide cheaply, half of which were wet wired  into the multiple tribes’ lore and culture already.

With a giant “that small” he could find five stones, that if well aimed, might bring down this giant, and his five kinsmen backups.  Evil giants come with backups.  They are chicken like that.

Of all the possible outcomes of entrepreneurial thinking, S Cubed’s crazy form of possibility thinking is the sort that might change a man, S Cubed.  Or equally as good, give life to infants that would have otherwise been sad statistics under Giant Banners like Poverty, seemingly so large that one could never overcome them.