call•me•jonah

He looked down at the padded manilla envelope number 5 sitting unsealed on the copy counter in Kinkos. Ten steps away, the mailing center. He had spent the drive over thinking, mulling over the possible outcomes. How many different paths could he tread? But as soon as he passed through the double sliding glass automatic doors, he pushed the red autopilot button in his head. His hands slid towards teh envelope without his requesting it. Pulled slowly the ribbon covering the sticky underside. He ran his finger down the checklist in his pocket. Everything is ready. Silently his fingers pressed the lip down, sealing the envelope closed.
"Ground or express?"
"South Korea."
"Oh well you'll need to fill out one of these."
Without hesitation, he penned in his home address and the company's address. Handed the form to the girl behind the desk.
"Forty six dollars."

And it was done. Thought can only carry you so far, before action must dictate. And the future discerns. Whether action was right. Or wrong. While thought remains safely behind to whisper "I told you so. I told you so."

How many times did he watch It's a Wonderful Life? Every Christmas practically. And how many times did he judge George a failure? Standing over the bridge, contemplating suicide. If not for the angel, the movie would be tragic. A virtuous, ambitious man driven to suicide by the failure of his dreams, by the harshness of the world. If not for divine intervention sparing his life, we would be watching A Christmas Carol on Christmas Eve instead. But how many angels will come to your aid as you sum up your life? Or is it your sole responsibility to satisfy yourself, by whatever means, that you might not come to that bridge with those malign thoughts?

George taught Jonah a lesson. And it was this: if you postpone your dreams and aspirations for whatever purpose, be it noble or otherwise, you are killing yourself. Slowly. And one day judgment will come upon you from within and you must judge by a jury of one whether or not you truly lived a worthy life. If you cannot answer 'yes' then everything becomes empty and an adversary. Your wife, your job, your kids, even your youth (now a shackle of idealism) and your dreams (a symbol of naive and harmfully selfish foolishness) are your enemies.

Perhaps the only solace can be found in God. An omnipotent being capable of being tailored to your life. A noble being who can justify every failure and sacrifice. A warm quilt to snuggle up to. A soft pillow to ease your worried dreams. A melody to calm your heart. As your eyes like heavy sheets close and you sink into sleep on that comforting deathbed.

I'm sorry I can't be there for you my friend. I hope you'll understand....