talk about ethical things....

"Freedom is the obedience to God's law...you live up to your best self....doing whatever you want (with no boundaries/laws) is not freedom because, then, you have things inside of you that you are unable to control, things that take you over and you are therefore not free....living with an internal policeman is true liberation (with God's law we live up to our best self...)..."
And to think, I never really thought that much about God until these past few weeks. Amazing how others can 'enlighten' you, dare I say...
So, anyway. The whole internal policeman and the little anecdote that went along with it is what really got me to thinking. I remembered an incident where I was filled with guilt and forced myself to do right, and then one where I am not that sure if I was filled with guilt, because I never did the right.
I was in third grade, I was in love with sharpie markers (no I was not a young drug addict, yet I did like that smell...) Whenever there was a project in class that we needed to use a sharpie marker I got so excited. Or I constantly found excuses to use them ("I need to make my name on my quiz more visible.", etc..) This also reminds me of how in elementary school it seems that everyone was obsessed with 'white-out' and then how I tried to avoid it - to be the dissenter...go me! And then, in third grade I also remember how I was obsessed with writing those stories and binding the little construction paper books...I was so eager to share (odd for shy little me) Although I never really focused on the quality of those things - just the quantity...I wanted to show off, show how good of a student I was...I think that I still do that...Hence the whole "you seem very motivated." (but the whole thing with that is, sure, I do all the preliminary research but when it comes to actually writing, well...)
Anyways...what was I writing (blogging) about? Oh, right the sharpie marker...So, one lovely little third grade day we were doing some sort of project...you know all those silly teachers give to make time go by, ones that are supposed to help us indirectly 'learn' .... I cannot for the life of me remember what it was... The sharpie markers, all those pretty colors, were on some desk for us all to share and use freely. And I sly little, greedy child that I was wanted more sharpie than some silly school project would allow. I wanted more, more, more. (still do...I can never just appreciate something for the moment that it was, I have to take it with me and hold on to it forever, maybe I am afraid my memory will fail me...) So, I looked around to see if anyone was watching me, then I slid the sharpie in my desk. I had a smile on my face thinking of all the exciting things I would be able to do now that I would have a sharpie marker in my possession at my home, in my room...oh, the possibilities! So, blah, blah, blah a few days went by and I am sure I had fun...but then my guilt settled in and I felt so terrible every day I went to class and realized that I had stole something. I felt like I was going to get caught. (ya, know I think that I stole chalk one time, too. what was it with me and all these teacher-ly thing?) I felt like everyone knew my secret or that they would one day find out. So I made a plan...I was going to bring in the perfectly-purple sharpie and casually drop it on the floor and then pick it and pretend I happened to find it there...And that is exactly what I did. I can recall nonchalantly dropping the marker on the floor picking it up and saying to my teacher, Miss Mangel, "I found this on the floor." She thanked me, went back to her teacher duties, and I was obsolved of the evil that I had done. My internal policeman made me do right...Then again I almost think that maybe I did not give that pen back for the right reasons...Did I really think that I was wrong? Or was I just scared of getting caught? Is that the same thing?
I need to find new things to think about....