Spur of the Moment

trina mugWhile dallying in a yet another sporting good section of a store, (for some unexplained reason there are forces at work that pull men from the clothing section to sporting goods), my other half decided to test me.  He snickered and turned to hand me a bag of shot.  This is a small bag about the size of a five pound sack of flour, full of lead shot which is used to fill shotgun shells for those who find it more guy like to reload their own shells instead of buying new shells like us ladies would do.  Well he turns to me and has this bag in his hand and thrusts it towards my face saying “hold this for me.” Snicker, snicker as he knew the bag, small in size as it was, weighed twenty five pounds and I would grab it and probably drop it maybe even spilling lead bb’s everywhere.  How much fun would that be? Well the reaction he got was not at all what he anticipated.  As there was a HUGE spider sitting on the end of the sack that he was holding mere inches from my face. He was not in the position to see Mr. Spider so the wide eyed, back pedaling, squealing woman in front of him causing a ruckus as she tripped over a display of camo covered backpacks was not the response he expected.

I finally was able to blubber out, “Spider!” At which point he all but threw the bag, with the finesse of a moose lumbering through underbrush, back into the bin from which it came.  I’m fairly sure the spider to this day is still scurrying around the outside walls on the inside of that store after being screamed at by a crazed lady and thrown back into his hidey hole by a giant of a man. I can see that spider running on six of his eight legs and holding his head with the other two screaming in spider screams.  Now why in the world would I feel this was an important life event?  Because it tells me that there is karma.

Sometimes karma comes on fast.  Like this bag of shot/spider event.  It was not a planned practical joke, it was spur of the moment jocularity. Those are usually the most eventful.   But sometimes it comes on like a slow burn. Burning like one of those 12 inch incense sticks that fill the room with fragrance to cover up odors that you wanted to hide from your parents.  Oops, off track again…

A slow karma event takes patience, but not planning.  Planning implies involvement, and karma does not allow for involvement.  To my way of thinking karma means that the universe becomes even.  If a bully bullies then eventually the bully will be bullied.  That is karma.  If a jokester pulls a joke then a joke will be pulled on a jokester, like the spider event.  That is karma.

So expecting karma to come at the spur of the moment is futile.  You sometimes don’t even know that karma has happened to someone you wish it on.  But know this, it does happen.  The true sense of the word karma has to do with Buddhists and Hinduisms and their next lives.  But in many circles today’s karma has come to be known as, “What goes around comes around,” in this life.

Now not that I wish ill will on anyone.  But I once saw one kid picking on another. The picker was bigger, more sure of himself.  The pickee did not seem to be able to hold his own in a stiff wind let alone against this bully.  I as the adult observer decided to step in and, ta-da save the day. But karma beat me to it.  The picker suddenly got this green tint about him.  He shuddered and as if by design– threw up on himself. Apparently he had purchased too much candy instead of more nutritious fruits and vegetables with lunch money he had acquired from other pickees he had affronted earlier in the day. Yes the sight, sound and smell was disgusting—and funny at the same time. Well not the smell. At the spur of the moment of up-chucking, just as at the moment of sticking that spider in my face, karma happened. But you know what the pickee did? Instead of reveling in the karma he helped the picker get to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

I must say that the boy who helped to clean up his tormenter was a better person than I. I did not stick around to see that the back packs were picked up, or that my tormenter was okay. I sheepishly picked myself up and headed back to the clothing department. As awkward as it was, that spur of the moment event was one that would make you say, “If it was going to happen I would have liked to see a video of it.” I’m sure I did quite a dance.

Trina Machacek lives in Eureka, Nevada.  Her book ITY BIS can be found on Kindle. Share your thoughts and opinions with her at itybytrina@yahoo.com

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