THE ARRIVAL

I didn't take the Thursday morning traffic into consideration when I decided to wake up at 7am and leave by 7.30. By the time I arrived at the airport, it was 8.40 and he was already out in the arrivals lobby.

I ran into the lobby and saw a tall man in a black sweater and dark blue jeans, carrying, what it looked like by the way he walked, a large heavy backpack, walking towards the payphone. "Oh no!" I thought to myself, "he's going to try and call me!" I sprinted up to the payphone, slowing down just before I appeared next to him so I didn't look so strange... incase it wasn't him.

I stood next to the tall man for 2 seconds, peering up at him to make sure I had the right person. He looked down at me, and I grinned. "Hi... I'm so sorry I'm late" I sighed. "Oh hey!" His tone bounced, "it's okay. Wow... You are short!" "Shut up!" I whined as I smiled in embarrassment, "lets go."

We walked out of the lobby and towards the car. On the way, I stopped in front of a pay machine, pulled out my parking ticket, looked at the machine, and frowned. The machine only takes cash. I rummaged through my wallet, and sure enough, I had no cash. I looked at Karl, embarrassed. He sighed and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. "How much is it?" I shrugged as I pushed the parking card into the machine. The words "0 dollars" appeared on the display screen. My eyes widened. "Nevermind. I guess that's the good thing about being late!" I pulled the card back out, and started walking again, too embarrassed about my disorganisation to look at Karl.

And that was the first moments I met my boyfriend... physically. Great start, huh.

Karma

On the way home from university today, Karyn and I saw a car pulled over on the side of the motorway with its hazard lights flashing. Since the traffic was fairly slow, I asked Karyn if we should stop and help. After some discussion, we decided that, for many reasons, we shouldn't, mainly because there was nothing we could have done.

Upon arriving home, I received a phone call from my mum. Her voice was full of distress as she told me that her car had stopped on the side of the road. She explained to me that the car was out of petrol, and she needed me to come rescue her with a spare tank we had sitting at home.

With much thought about the situation, I wondered to myself if this was the law of karma at work. Was it because I didn't stop to help that car on the motorway so my parents' car got stuck on the road?

We had been talking about diffusion of responsibility in our social psych class. When there are many people present, it is less likely for one individual to stop and help someone because everyone thinks that someone else can help. After these lectures, I had decided that in order to do the 'right' thing, I should help people out when there are large populations and no one would stop and help.

Maybe karma doesn't have anything to do with it at all. My mum could have called me any other day and said she had run out of petrol and I wouldn't have thought karma had anything to do with it. Subconsciously I felt guilty about not doing what I morally thought was right to do, which is why I linked my mums car incident with the one we saw on the motorway.

Religion

At dinner one night, my dad asked me if I believe in God. A girl who use to be a Sunday School leader is now unsure of how to answer this question.

Do I believe in God? As I grow and learn more about people, society, history, and the world, more and more evidence has appeared on the subject of religion. How do I know what to trust and what not to?

Sure, I believe in a higher power. I believe that there are things in the world that is out of my control. I believe that someone is in charge of everything. I also believe that everything happens for a reason, good or bad. We don't always know what that reason is, but there always is one.

There are psychological research done on epilepsy and how it is related to religious beliefs. I know that The Da Vinci Code is fictional, but it makes people unsure of what's really there. It makes me wonder if the Christian religion actually exists.

When I heard the song Doubting Thomas by Nickle Creek, I felt so connected to it. Almost like it was exactly how I felt. Especially the bridge. "Can I be used to help others find truth when I'm scared I'll find proof that it's a lie? Can I be led down a trail dropping breadcrumbs to proof I'm not ready to die?" And the chorus "I'm a doubting Thomas, I can't keep my promises, cause I don't know what's safe. Oh me of little faith."

Oh, me of little faith. I want to have faith, but I don't know what I can and cannot believe. How do I ever know what's real and what's not? How do I decide? Or is that just what faith is, to believe something even without proof of it's actual existance? To trust, to worship?