Karma

There is a lot of talk about Karma.  Karma is the angel who simply gives back what a person has given.  Many people refer to Karma as getting even or revenge, but that really isn't the way Karma works.  It has no feelings or emotions whatsoever when it comes to the task at hand.  Its rules are simple and easy to follow.  For those who like to live under the Angel of Karma, you get what you give, you reap what you sow, regardless if it is good or bad.

Personally, I would rather live under the Angel of Grace, but, being human, I tend to forget that is where I want or need to be.  Sometimes I just get snarky.  I get snarky about things that are really not that important, but I let them bother me.  

One of my main snark attacks comes when folks do not respect the community or common areas.  This means places like parking lots, sidewalks and stairwells that are used by more than one family, to name a few.  It also raises its ugly head when someone lets their dog do its business two feet from the doggiedoo station, complete with bags and a basket for the waste, and will not take the time to pick it up.  Then there are the ones who feel like the parking lot is the place to clean out their automobile, even though there is a dumpster within a short walking distance in each lot.

Yessirree, these things make me snarky and I get the feeling I would like to teach a few people about common decency and respect.  What I don't realize is that when snarkiness is in charge, the Angel of Grace has folded up its wings, taken a step back and allowed Karma to enter in all its glory.

This was most evident as I headed out to the dumpster with a stack of boxes, one of which had contained boneless chicken wings and a few  half full containers of dipping sauce.  

My recent snark had been about the stairwell.  There are four families who use it and to find cigarette  butts crushed on the steps was nearly the breaking point.  For heaven's sake, everyone is already knee deep in pollen, we don't need to track in ashes and what is left of burnt tobacco.  

So, there I am, perched on the top step, headed down.  By the time I took two steps, the boxes turned into a juggling act.  Mid way through the third step, I lost control and all my boxes went bounding down the stairs without me.  As I made my way down and started gathering the boxes, I made a most enlightening discovery....There was dipping sauce, of all flavors and consistency, on every step!  After retrieving some paper towels and water, I finally got it cleaned up and I'm pretty sure I heard the fluttering of big wings leave this common area when I was finished.   

The obvious lesson to this would be to lead by example.  If I want the stairwell to be kept clean and clear, then maybe it would work better if the other tenants saw me cleaning it.....without griping about it.  I don't know if it will work, but I will give it a try.  In the meantime though, Runtly is a constant reminder of my fau pax and judgmental attitude.  His nose knows where all the sauce landed and getting him down the steps takes forever.