On I-70 driving into the sunset, just west of Kansas City, listening to the serene and simple music of Tim Story, I knew that peace was mine. Right then and there. There were no special merits I needed to attain to receive it, no work to be done to “get” it. I could have it anytime I wanted.
But I wanted to listen to a song, eat an energy bar, finish my latte before I accepted peace.
So I said: “There’s something I have to do here first,” as if peace wasn’t in the moment, wasn’t offered in the Now, but was something I could put a hold on until later, like pausing a DVD. I was really saying, “Sorry, God, but you’re gonna have to wait. I don’t want to be happy right now. Maybe in a few.” It was like joy was something I could only receive later, maybe at the end of my life, or after a long and difficult struggle.
A voice inside said: You can’t wait. You can have joy right this very moment, but you can’t have it later. Now is the only time you can experience it.
“Wait a second,” I thought back.” I have to think about this.”
Then I knew that I prevented myself from knowing peace forever since now is eternity, and anything I push out of present awareness, I push out of reality. Why did I reject peace, which is the same as rejecting God? Because I thought there was something else to be had first, in its place. Something better.
And for some reason, I wanted to hold off on joy. I wanted to delay the gratification, even prevent the entry of paradise; to withhold it from myself, as if it could be denied. I wanted to deny myself this one and only gift that really mattered. It was an act of supreme self-denial, and an unutterable conceit. I wanted to save heaven, joy, peace, for later, until after I endured all the suffering that was supposed to be necessary to “acquire” it. I was being a peace miser.
If I could pay for it through suffering or sacrifice, through hard labor, after a long and arduous journey, then maybe I could have it on my own terms. Then it wouldn’t be a gift, but something I owned. And I could have it for myself. As long as I conceived of it that way, I just pushed it away. For its one condition is that I receive it without conditions. It couldn’t be bought or earned through pain or sacrifice. It couldn’t be owned, and it couldn’t be kept from others. In fact, in order to ‘have’ it, I had to share it, as it was so freely given me.
Happiness doesn’t make me wait for it. It offers me itself this very moment, and only this moment, offering it to me for free. Only I believe that paradise is attained with the cost of a lengthy wait, like anticipating the sweetness of a glazed donut after I stand in line at the bakery. I tell heaven it needs to wait while I search for it in the future. That’s my only mistake. All I need is practice its presence. It may be a free gift, but I spend most of my life trying to earn the currency to pay for paradise.
© 2022 by Michael C. Just
Mike’s novel, The Dirt: The Journey of a Mystic Cowboy, is available in softcover or eBook formats through Amazon.
You can purchase the book through this website. Or go straight to amazon at https://www.amazon.com/s?k=the+dirt+journey+of+a+mystic+cowboy&crid=1S40Q4BXSUWJ6&sprefix=the+dirt%3A+journey+of+a+m%2Caps%2C180&ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_23
Mike’s other titles, including The Crippy, The Mind Altar, and Canyon Calls, are available through this website or through Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002
Four of his short stories have recently been published online:
Lies, Ltd. has been published by The Mystery Tribune @ Lies, Ltd.: Literary Short Fiction by Michael C. Just (mysterytribune.com)
The Obligate Carnivore has been published by the Scarlet Leaf Review @ Category: MICHAEL JUST – SCARLET LEAF REVIEW
I See You, Too has been published by the 96th of October @ I See You, Too – 96th of October
Offload, a short story about a man who can heal any disease, is now live and can be read at The Worlds Within at Offload – The Worlds Within