People love when I wear this shirt, but I can tell by their reactions that they think it means something different than what I think it means.
Karma is a threat a lot of people like to throw out when they are unhappy with the actions of another. “Karma is a bitch” is the most commonly uttered sentence about Karma in the Western world.
I see it differently. Karma is a promise. A promise that the Divine can see my heart, read my intention, and that even when things do not work out smoothly, they will eventually work out.
I am in a position to massively disappoint or thrill hundreds of people on a daily basis. And that’s before I even count my kids, so I have to figure out a way to survive without going completely crazy, second guessing every single thing I say.
Yesterday my boys were off from school and I announced that I had a very fun day planned, morning at a farm doing corn mazes, pumpkin rolling, potato slingshot, and other autumn-y farm-y things, then the afternoon at Legoland. Plus, they could bring friends.
Best mom ever, right?
They revolted like I had suggested we have a cloth napkin folding contest.
Those things are for babies. Those things will be sooooo boooooring. Tears, rolling on the floor, kicking, screaming.
I truly wish I had the need to exaggerate this for readability.
WTF? Can’t they see I am trying? Trying to do something meaningful and memorable with them on the rare day off that I don’t have to work?
WTF? Karma? Karma, do you see this? Karma, please tell me you are getting this.
I am trying.
So, here’s the thing. One of the things that is so annoying about being human. You just gotta keep trying. And somedays you’ll be misunderstood and revolted against, and somedays supported and praised. But, guys, you have to just keep doing what you know in your heart to be the right thing, even when no one likes it. Keep learning a lot. Keep teaching a little. Apologize when you should. Just keep trying.
I’d like to thank Karma for coming around quickly and giving me a little peace as we ended our day. As I put them to bed, each one asked, “When can we go to Legoland again?”
It all works out.
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