I read that maybe one in ten Americans does not believe in God, however we choose to parse that sentence with a question mark hung on it. I don't believe in God, though what I mean by that is ... too boring to unpack on a fine grey Sunday morning. But I certainly should have sympathy for those who do believe because I feel the same tickle, the same need to find purpose and have control.
For example, today is the last day of the baseball season, and my fantasy baseball team is in first place by a slim 2.5 points. Two things:
1) My team started the season as Snakes on a Plane, but I was mired in sixth place so in August I changed the team name to the Six Bunny-Wunnies, which was an act of simple superstition. I wanted to be able to say I had done something to change my luck. I do not believe in luck, but when the lizard brain beckons, who am I to deny it? It felt good. I did it.
2) When my team faltered, I would tack on a few more Bunny-Wunnies. We are up to 11 now. We are the Eleven Bunny-Wunnies, which might be a better name for a football team, but who thinks ahead in affairs of the lizard brain? So I would like to make a little joke on this last day of the season and change the name of my team to The 101 Bunny-Wunnies.
But my superstitious self says don't rock the boat. And I will listen to my superstitious self. And I am abashed. But I am also ahead by 2.5 points.
Like Job, I wait.
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