A handful of campers and I have been recreationally discussing the concept of karma - how it rears its head, substantively and procedurally. Like most Libras, I stand for balance and justice, and am not ashamed of my reputation for flaring up at the sight, sound, or scent of patent unfairness. So my confidence in karma, even without knowing when it will strike, consoles me.
Inexplicably bad things happen to good people all the time. I used to believe that bad things only happened to the innocent and misfortune never met up with the mean-spirited or exceptionally thoughtless ones – until I repeatedly witnessed how the process of evening out plays out over time. Karmic justice is a work of fine art.
Via our actions and inactions (big or small, deliberate or ignorant), we steer a lot of our personal destiny. Some of the good things I’ve done have come back to bless me and some of my not-ideal behavior has come back to bite me. When someone who has a notorious history of unreliability complains, shell-shocked, about a frustratingly undependable new addition to her camp, I’ll listen and won’t say much but that doesn’t mean I don’t realize what’s going on. And when I find out that somebody has underhandedly screwed over a person who didn’t deserve it, I can only be tranquilized by playing Kanye’s “Let’s have a toast for the douchebags” song a few times and reminding myself that the larger story is still unfolding.