Cardinal sin

"why are they called cardinal"

I was sitting on the top step leading out to our backyard. The sun unblocked by the barren trees warmed me as temps hovered in the high forties. I was wearing a long sleeve tee from Libby’s college tours and my striped pajama bottoms. Harry was happy to be meandering about untethered and unbothered because it was Sunday morning and we had no place to be in a hurry. George and I had just finished watching M. Night Shyamalan’s most recent creation and I felt a bit jittery. He has a way of indulging in the cardinal sin’s and exploiting so that we can all relate. He writes as if he is building a bridge to connect us to the knowledge that we are not as far away from the deadly sins as we would all like to believe. His movies remind us that there is a darker side to life and that it is our daily choices that keep us in the light. One wrong decision can start off a chain reaction of spiraling events bringing us to places we were all taught to avoid.

During the movie a pop artist sings a line from one of her songs. It was about a Faustian trade. I turned to George and asked him what that was, he shrugged and fixed his glaze on the tv. I reached for my phone and googled it. The results sent my mind spinning off in a million directions and I felt as though there is so much I still don’t know. Simply put it means selling your soul to the Devil in order to receive something extraordinary in the present moment. Giving up a piece of your future in order to experience instant gratification seems like something we might have all done at one point in our lives. I can remember making large purchases, my new sporty Acura Integra in my twenties knowing I had plenty of time to make more money in the future. I wouldn’t say I sold my soul to the Devil in order to drive a sporty car and feel a little bit like I had arrived but I definitely knew I was reaching and putting myself on shaky territory.

Sundays are slow moving for us. We like to linger longer than I imagine more people do. It’s just after noon and I’m still in my striped pj’s and UCONN oversized tee. George is sitting next to me killing time I assume while I finish this post so we can head out to run the few errands that we have. I’m not sure exactly what just happened when I was letting Harry out moments ago but I know that it left me feeling surprised and a little bit at peace. I have to let you know that I have always had an irrational fear of birds. Not any one species but all sizes and flying creatures from near and far. Harry led me through the living room out to the porch and as he made his way into the yard I sat on the top step. The sun felt comforting and warm. I closed my eyes and imagined what each of my children might be doing. I sent them each a text that said, “I love you”. Then I thought about George and I visiting a property my sister is interested in and I sent her the same text. I put my phone down beside me and looked up at Harry. He was sitting in the sun looking towards the back wall of bamboo.

From what seemed like out of nowhere a female cardinal took flight from beside me on the step. I hadn’t noticed her when I sat down. Harry had run past her and she hadn’t moved. Her fluttering of wings spooked me more than the movie we had just watched. and then I sat back and tried to find her in the brush to the side. I could hear her singing but couldn’t find her. I wasn’t afraid. Instead I felt a weird sense of wonder and peace. I immediately thought of George’s mother sharing with me the night before that when her father visits her its always in the form of a butterfly. I checked myself and wondered if I was finally going crazy or if I had just received a visitor. The sad part is that I couldn’t imagine or decide who I would want that soul to be. I came back to my writing room and googled Cardinal and landed on cardinal sin and then somehow looped back to Faustian trade. How and why do we sell our souls to the Devil and is there really a dark negative force that likes to pull us down?

What are the choices we keeping making each day that pulls us from the warmth of the sun and into the dark creases of our trauma? I can still see the cardinal flying away from me. It was so close I’m surprised I didn’t reach out and try to touch her. I asked George what he thought about what had just happened. He was surprised and contemplative but even as I type this now it’s beginning to feel a bit silly. If something is cardinal, ie of the greatest importance, why is it that it can be labeled a sin and also a beautiful songbird. Life is full of semantics for us to unravel and make sense of in our ordinary lives. I guess that’s why they say ignorance is bliss.