One of my jobs here at the library is keeping up with people who don’t return their books--sending them letters every week asking them to return their books and then billing them for the cost of replacing those books when it’s clear that they are not going to return them. Today as I was involved in this process I found myself silently berating these delinquent patrons: just bring your damn books back! It took about two seconds for me to then berate myself for my hypocrisy. I have a long history of overdue library books—I believe I once left the country for an extended period without first returning my library books. I always paid my fines though and never tried to deny my own responsibility. But nor did I develop better habits, so mostly I stopped borrowing books from the library. So it occurred to me today that my new job duties could be construed as a strong circumstantial case in favor of the existence of karma. It’s almost as clear cut a case as one sees in those Chinese comic books/pamphlets demonstrating the workings of karma that are full of pictures of the ungrateful son who developed cancer of the tongue after speaking harshly to his parents. It leads me to wonder what other, less evident, karmic debts I might be repaying.
What’s playing on the mental jukebox today:
“Give my love to Rose” Johnny Cash
“You never even called me by my name” David Allen Coe
“In the Battlefield for my Lord” Reverend D.C. Rice and his Sanctified Congregation
