Would doing away with my husband actually improve my state of mind? Should I risk finding out?
By Susan Creamer Joy - Sunday 27 Nov 2011
As Gregg Braden writes in his book, ‘Fractal Time, The Secret to 2012 and a New World Age,’ “The fractal view of the universe implies that everything from a single atom to the entire cosmos is made of just a few natural patterns.”
He goes on to say that the evidence of fractals is also found within time and can be calculated using the mathematical principle of phi. With this formula it is possible to anticipate the recurrent patterns in one’s life based on a single seed event.
At the moment I am trying to understand my repeated attraction to friction as it plays out within my marriage to a certifiable sports addict. How this pattern escaped my earlier notice and was able to embed itself in the better part of my life through the seed event of a matrimonial oversight is still a mystery to me.
I realize that nothing is random in the universe and that although we each have free will, we are also operating within a larger system of patterns and hierarchies that generally try to steer us in the right direction, if we would only pay attention.
Clearly, I was distracted up until the moment I said, “I do.”
But these universal laws and conditions also imply that we are going to learn whatever lessons are specific to each one of us no matter which direction we ultimately take and that the only variable will likely be the circumstances surrounding the ways in which we learn them.
For instance, now that football season has commenced I could choose to exterminate my husband rather than continue in my lessons learning patience and cooperation and in overcoming my frustration at the disruption of all schedules now that everything we do is based around key games. Sadly, there is a complete disconnect between the man’s body and his mind, which will last well beyond Super Bowl Sunday, along with declivitous mood swings resulting from favored teams failing to win the big game.
The Big Game I have come to understand, means every game.
Certainly doing away with him would take care of my immediate problem. But would it eliminate those necessary lessons I mentioned above?
Rather than learning how to endure the protracted broadcast of cheering throngs, over-zealous,cacophonous sports casters, the mindless venting of unholy expletives and witnessing my husband’s repeated and inexplicable high jumps off the living room sofa; I would merely change context and be learning instead how to construct a shank from toilet paper rolls and calcified bed linens, swap cigarettes for phone time and to coexist peaceably with the other violent offenders in my cell block.
Unfortunately, either way I would be unable to avoid the lessons endemic to living among those who confound me.
I must understand that by learning how to see the larger picture and by working my way to a place of acceptance once the patterns within that picture become evident, I stand a better than average chance of transforming these outwardly murderous impulses into inwardly rewarding epiphanies, which will ultimately bring me that much closer to who and what I really am.
At the moment my options hover somewhere between the inspired actions of Joan d'Arc and Lizzie Borden.
It all seems too simplistic – this concept of fractals informing us that everything in the universe can be reduced down to a few basic, natural patterns and forms.
Yet I suppose that much like the outwardly simplistic doctrine of non-judgement and unconditional love, abiding by the clear cosmic principle against spousal extermination is more challenging than it first appears – at least during football season. I am really struggling against my strong inclination to render my husband unconscious and deposit his limp body at the local sports bar where he can sit it out for the duration. Not only would this restore a fine hunk of peace to my soul and calm to my environment but it seems so utterly reasonable at the moment.
Of course, this ought to be a good indication of just how much further I have to go.
Right now, the man is in no danger.
However, he might want to pack an overnight bag just in case.
He goes on to say that the evidence of fractals is also found within time and can be calculated using the mathematical principle of phi. With this formula it is possible to anticipate the recurrent patterns in one’s life based on a single seed event.
At the moment I am trying to understand my repeated attraction to friction as it plays out within my marriage to a certifiable sports addict. How this pattern escaped my earlier notice and was able to embed itself in the better part of my life through the seed event of a matrimonial oversight is still a mystery to me.
I realize that nothing is random in the universe and that although we each have free will, we are also operating within a larger system of patterns and hierarchies that generally try to steer us in the right direction, if we would only pay attention.
Clearly, I was distracted up until the moment I said, “I do.”
But these universal laws and conditions also imply that we are going to learn whatever lessons are specific to each one of us no matter which direction we ultimately take and that the only variable will likely be the circumstances surrounding the ways in which we learn them.
For instance, now that football season has commenced I could choose to exterminate my husband rather than continue in my lessons learning patience and cooperation and in overcoming my frustration at the disruption of all schedules now that everything we do is based around key games. Sadly, there is a complete disconnect between the man’s body and his mind, which will last well beyond Super Bowl Sunday, along with declivitous mood swings resulting from favored teams failing to win the big game.
The Big Game I have come to understand, means every game.
Certainly doing away with him would take care of my immediate problem. But would it eliminate those necessary lessons I mentioned above?
Rather than learning how to endure the protracted broadcast of cheering throngs, over-zealous,cacophonous sports casters, the mindless venting of unholy expletives and witnessing my husband’s repeated and inexplicable high jumps off the living room sofa; I would merely change context and be learning instead how to construct a shank from toilet paper rolls and calcified bed linens, swap cigarettes for phone time and to coexist peaceably with the other violent offenders in my cell block.
Unfortunately, either way I would be unable to avoid the lessons endemic to living among those who confound me.
I must understand that by learning how to see the larger picture and by working my way to a place of acceptance once the patterns within that picture become evident, I stand a better than average chance of transforming these outwardly murderous impulses into inwardly rewarding epiphanies, which will ultimately bring me that much closer to who and what I really am.
At the moment my options hover somewhere between the inspired actions of Joan d'Arc and Lizzie Borden.
It all seems too simplistic – this concept of fractals informing us that everything in the universe can be reduced down to a few basic, natural patterns and forms.
Yet I suppose that much like the outwardly simplistic doctrine of non-judgement and unconditional love, abiding by the clear cosmic principle against spousal extermination is more challenging than it first appears – at least during football season. I am really struggling against my strong inclination to render my husband unconscious and deposit his limp body at the local sports bar where he can sit it out for the duration. Not only would this restore a fine hunk of peace to my soul and calm to my environment but it seems so utterly reasonable at the moment.
Of course, this ought to be a good indication of just how much further I have to go.
Right now, the man is in no danger.
However, he might want to pack an overnight bag just in case.