It was supposed to be a brainstorming conversation about what kinds of healthy things we could pack in their lunchboxes for the new school year. After a summer of ice cream cones and candy stores by the beach, it feels like we need to step it up with the fruits and veggies and whole grains. We had agreed on yogurt and raisins, cheese sticks and apple slices. They were less enthusiastic about baby carrots and cottage cheese. Then I brought up sandwiches, knowing I probably wouldn't get too far with them. The only acceptable version in our house involves peanut butter, which is not allowed at school.
"Well, Roman likes turkey sandwiches now," my 6-year-old Evelyn says. My skin turns cold.
"You do, buddy?" I ask him, holding out hope that his sister is telling one of her "wish stories" (ie. lies).
"Oh yeah. Daddy gave me one," he says, not looking up from the picture he is coloring and my heart actually hurts.
They say that karma is a bitch. I picture her as a winged creature- scaly and grey and dragonlike, all pointed ears and deadly claws- swooping in to punish those who do wrong, collect old debts and strike out against evil. In short- serving as the symbol for the hope that being the bigger person does pay off in the end. I put a lot of stake in being the bigger person in the wake of a bad divorce. When I start to feel the grip of anger or frustration I hold my own feelings in check to make sure that my choices will not keep me up at night. I choose the best thing for my kids, even when it benefits my ex.
So when my 4-year-old son, who has been raised vegetarian since birth along with his sister, is handed a turkey sandwich by their father for no other reason than to seek vegence against me for whatever wrong-doing he has imagined, I start to scan the skies looking for karma to do her job.
The trouble with karma is that we all do wrong. We lie, we cut corners, exceed the speed limit, choose ourselves over others sometimes, fail to be the best we can be. Should we all be looking back over our shoulders, worrying that life will pay us back in the end? I am not without fault, but I do my best to try and make sure that the rights heavily outweigh those wrongs at the end of the day. I know that in reality all things do not come out even. All rights are not wronged. And bad things do happen to truly good people. But I can breathe easy knowing that when you choose to hold on to anger and work to spread misery to others, you will only breed unhappiness in your own heart. And a heart can only hold so much of that kind of burden. Perhaps that unhappiness, festering and ugly in those kinds of hearts, is what karma comes to feed on in the night. While I am soundly sleeping.
