Creating / Chaos, or: The Truth Stings, by Todd Boss

God’s anonymity is a legal necessity. Consider the lawsuits.

Think of it: You’ve just created earth and sea, built the most dangerous playground in history, and you’re about to populate it with cunning delinquents with a thirst for justice. You’re considering opening a customer service department, hiring a publicist, when… What’s that? You say you’ve been wronged by volcano, fire, earthquake, struck by lightning, drowned or shipwrecked, fallen and can’t get up, and you’d like to talk with God’s attorneys? Sorry, no listing.

I’ve spent the past few weeks finishing a playhouse in the backyard for my own and the neighborhood kids. I’m flat on my back in the loft these days, screwing the ceiling joists with ½” ply. I could spend the rest of the summer sanding edges, padding corners, illuminating emergency exits, but why? Someone is going to get hurt. Likewise, someone is going to fall from the ropes and ladders I’ve strung from one of the property’s most climbable trees. (I’ve been in the crown and touched the sky; how can I deny my children such a pure joy?)

My wife and I live in a tony suburb where there’s an attorney through the woods in every direction. I suppose if I were smart, I’d hang a sign from every stick: CAUTION, RAMBLE AT YOUR OWN RISK. Better yet: I wouldn’t allow any kids to play in “my” woods. Let them play video games while the summer sun sifts morning and evening through the leaves; at least nobody will sue. 

The truth stings a bit: For breaking limbs, gashing heads, and meeting sin-selling snakes in the apple tree, the world is the perfect place.

I hereby sign the waiver (what a release!) and forward it to every neighbor: I accept responsibility for anything that may happen to me or my children on the great, rocky, unmarked minefield of life. Can we be friends, now, and trust one another? For better they wreck themselves in a trusting world than live safely in an armored one.

The earth is an anonymous and randomly violent work of art, created recklessly, and blind by design to its own blisters and mudslides—“acts of God,” as even the secular lawyers and insurers still call them. But ultimately there is no assurance and there is no settlement. We ramble here at our own risk. And when we say we love the earth, what we must mean is that we accept that risk, on “good faith” (another legal phrase carried over like a honeyed antique), and treasure it, and trust it to have lessons (some soft, some hard) for us. 

Comments

[Nyla Alisia]

Very well put!

Nyla

[Amy Allara]

Great post...some great lines, especially in the last paragraph.

[Jenny Factor]

delicious

[Merimee Moffitt]

Your blog makes me think of Mexico, where few warning signs are posted. There is a laissez-faire kind of freedom which breeds a sense of joy and appreciation of all life's wondrous toys: swimming pools, trees, cities, parks, fountains (And No! One does not put one's stinky feet into a beautiful fountain in Mexico--the water is for drinking). In small towns at least, "Stop" signs are simply a suggestion. If one can't watch one's kids close enough, then, well--the kid better be smart, or you've got more than your share already. Meaning, there are no "Do Not Dive" signs at the local pools: folks are expected to be clever enough to enjoy themselves, and in this, the Mexicans excel. One time when I returned home from a stay in Mexico (I have gone to Spanish language schools a couple of times), I actually did a long flat dive into the shallow end of a public pool and the ruckus was astonishing. The guards acted liked I'd called out "Live Bomb." I apologized, said I'd just returned from Mexico. As a teacher and parent, I agree with you that life is dangerous and thrilling and unfair and all--and kids need free, unsupervised, fun time--outside, in the wild, unafraid of life itself. I was absolutely thrilled when my fourteen year-old daughter got a map of the bus system in Albuquerque and learned how to get from our neighborhood to the edge of town where a trail goes up the foothills of the Sandia Mountains enough so she and her girlfriend could sit and watch a glorious desert sunset. Since then, at twenty-three, she's been to more countries than I can count. Love conquers fear.

Nice to hear from you. what lucky kids and neighbor kids you have.

[Maja]

The Christian Orthodox tradition, from which I come, teaches about the impossibility to know/understand anything about God or his/her/it's acts: the only thing we, humble imperfect humans can say about God is in form of negation... God is not this, neither that. Thus the chaos, unpredictability of life, or call it drama or tragedy are an evident and unquestionable part of our fate on this earth. Think about what and how Pushkin, Dostoevsky, Solzjenizin, Brodsky wrote - to take only few from the Russians...
What a light-years-distance from Western (or more exactly Protestant, I suppose) God's anonymity as a legal necessity! :-)
Despite the difference between our starting points, I love the beauty of your writing. Elegant and witty, as always.
Take care of the playhouse and hope you and the kids are often touching the sky.