My One Conversation With God

Did I ever tell you about my one (and only) conversation with God? No? I think you’ll enjoy it… so here goes.

On a fun exploration adventure with a good undergraduate college friend, AGS for short, we visited a gorge cut into uninhabited land by a seasonal river. The side of the gorge was largely comprised of loose yellow-brown mud and small rocks, with sparse clumps of vegetation. On impulse, we decided to climb a side of the gorge with nothing but our riding clothes and shoes, and a length of nylon rope about two meters long. We had nothing in our stomachs either, having started out early that morning with no breakfast. Suffice it to say that we soon found ourselves stuck about two-thirds of the way up, exhausted, facing a near vertical dry mud and gravel face, no vegetation to hang on to, and large rocks far down below to receive anyone slipping down. The fun had evaporated entirely in the hot noon-day sun.

I asked AGS to carry on climbing, if he could and solicit help from anyone he may find for a rescue. He refused to leave me perched precariously on the side of the gorge. The two-meter nylon rope we carried with us was simply too short for us to connect us together for safety and climbing assistance. The mud face was perilously slippery and our motorcycle riding shoes were no help at all. Neither of us could climb anymore – me because of the gorge wall’s characteristics and exhaustion, and AGS because he could not abandon me.

It is thus, in my intemperate youth, that I took a long moment to rest, and to contemplate on the presumed, assumed immortal. Not one to subscribe to “braying,” I bargained with the timeless creator, sustainer, and destroyer all rolled into one. Pointing to the rocks down below, I argued that it would be an inordinate waste of a useful life for me to end up smashed on them. That I had shown promise in life to that point, and could help the all-in-one make things better. AGS, perched at a short distance from me, immersed in thoughts of his own and did not participate in my debate with the unknown unknowable. After a few minutes of my rigorous, vigorous, humorous presentation of my case, with no perceivable or conceivable counter arguments coming along, I relaxed into smiles and inner laughter. And thought pragmatically about my predicament, rather than negotiate with the vast emptiness of endless space and time.

It occurred to me that I might find a jagged rock, and cut holes into the side of the gorge face. Could that give my slippery-shoed feet better footholds? And could these holes also be used as locations to grip with my hands on the surface? Converting this promising thought into action, I found myself a sharp implement and began this method of climbing the mud face. With me, AGS began to climb on, and in just an hour or so, we found ourselves at the top, hugging for joy. Ancient tooling and tool-use skills came to my rescue that day…

And so concluded my one conversation with whatever is perceived in whichever, however, whatever manner… and it’ll exhaust me no end if anyone argues that my thoughts, imagination, knowledge, and action are all gifts from the omniscient omnipotent omnipresent.