Where Would I Rather Be?

I remember in early January I was with some friends of mine in the United States. It was the first time to hang out with other people since the realization of December 1st, and all ground was still shaky, so to speak. I didn't know how it would go, but I wouldn't know the difference anyway. One of my friends had her children there. Her son, a seven year old, turned to me and said, "It is nice to be hanging out with you, but I would rather be hanging out with God." I couldn't understand what he meant, so I asked him to repeat it. He did. I still failed to understand. What I heard was an impossibility for me.

Not "God," I had no problem with that word, although I didn't understand what it meant (I still don't). No, my difficulty was with the phrase, "I would rather be." It was so strange to me. How could anyone want to "rather be doing" other than what they are doing? If they would rather be doing something, why not just do it?

Something in me wanted to understand it, but perhaps that was just the dying remnants of the self. I couldn't get around it. I was like a machine given an unsolvable problem. Looking back on it now, it reminds me of an episode of Star Trek. Spock is talking to two androids that are identical in every way. He looks to one android and says, "I love you," then looks to the other and says, "But, I hate you." The androids cannot handle the paradox and quickly self destruct. Although I didn't self-destruct, questions just poured out of me.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"Then why don't you do it?"

"Do what?" he asked.

"Hang out with God."

"I don't know how."

"Do you know how to hang out with us?"

"I guess so."

"Can you be satisfied with that?"

"I guess so," he said.

"Then why not be here completely, every moment you are here? I don't know how to be anywhere other than where I am. If I did know, I would be filled with pain, or at least, irritation."

Everyone had stopped talking and was listening to our conversation. I assured him that he didn't do anything wrong, and changed the subject.

Is there something you would rather be doing? Is that at all possible? Can you only do what you are doing, from moment to moment? Is there any other moment other than the moment we are in?

If you think you would rather be somewhere else, are you telling the truth? If you would rather be there, why aren't you there? If you are there, isn't it true that you will most likely wish to be somewhere else?

Why is it not possible for us to be where we are? Have you ever asked these questions? Is there anything else we can possibly have?

I can only be where I am. I cannot even say I am in the moment, because even that is an idea. Really, there is no moment. There is only being.

So how could I ever want to be somewhere I am not? I still fail to completely understand the concept.