Greetings and Salutations

Tena yistilign. This is how you would greet someone in Ethiopia. It means May God give you health.

The reply is Egziebher yimesgen, thanks be to God. Apparently there are several options in Ethiopia, even one that sounds phonetically like Shalom, and it means God give you peace.

And so I have decided that Hello and Goodbye truly, there is no doubt in my mind, absolutely suck.

There was that woman in Texas years ago who tried to petition her town (and later the world) to start saying Heaven-O because Hell-O was such a negative greeting - what with bringing to mind Lucifer and the hounds of hell. I thought she was a crackerjack whackjob then but who's to really say? Certainly not me. I've just found proof, again and again, that hello and goodbye are not enough and they annoy me. Perhaps I should check the etymology and then I'll calm down and be happy-hunky-dory again.

The reason I'm going on about this? I've been thinking about all my conversations with God, where I sometimes just launch right in "God? I was just-" "God, please help me understand -" or "God!" In the last one I sound so demanding, like "hey listen up! I'm talkING to Yooooou!" But you see the pattern, I never even bother to say "hi". Like, by now, if I was God I would be thinking that carbon-based brat is so rude, she deserves to get kicked in the shin. Clearly, this would be the all-punishing God response. The only real God response has always been "My child, talk to me. Tell me anything."

Beautiful as they are, I can't use the Ethiopian greeting either: "May God grant you health, God."

Did you think I was going to skip over the detail about my conversations with God? Nuh-uh. Some might call it praying and some might calling it madly petitioning for help to stop the unstoppable, the inevitable. WHATEVER. I've asked for lots of help, in the form of a good night's sleep, a reprieve or the total cessation of renal function failure, for a lightning bolt to strike the room next door and carve out "Shut the hell up!" in Sanskrit right above their door. There's also been requests for some kind of sign, some kind of guarantee. That the hardest conversation for sure:

Me: I'd just like to be sure I'm doing the right thing

Reply: What's the wrong thing?

Me: I don't know, that's why I'm asking you.

Reply: You need to realise, there is no wrong thing

Me: Reeeeah-lee? How about murder then, is that not a wrong thing?

Reply: We could do without your sarcasm.

Me: Sorry, so the right thing -

Reply: It's 3 a.m. You should really get some sleep.

Me: If you would just answer my question, I could probably fall asleep koi baht nahin. (No worries)

Reply: Blame and pointing fingers will never solve any problems.

Me: Can I tell you something God? You make me mental. Or let me rephrase that: you made me mental. Ha ha.

And then there's silence - because we get to a point where God will no longer dignify my comments with a response.

Then I just have to sit there in the dark, thinking positive thoughts like: "That rustling sound is not the cockroach that fell out of my facecloth when I went to wash my face" or "Tomorrow, I'll get more writing done," or "If that weasel Mahinder comes up to my room one more time I'm pushing him off the balcony"

Who knew that spiritual practice could be so all-encompassing?