The Dilemma Of Morality

I couldn’t see it then, but looking back I can see the exact moment things started to go downhill for me. For most people, it wouldn’t seem like much. It wasn’t a monumental moment, like getting kicked out of the house or going on a spending spree that robbed me of all my spare change. It was something that created a shift inside me. A habit that was hard to kick. A release of my own free will and giving it up to something else.

It was as simple as a little cup of coffee. Actually, to be precise, it was a mocha frappuccino, but who’s keeping track? Am I right? It was on a stormy, rainy night. It was dark, and it was cold outside and I had driven my beat up old car to the bookstore to meet a man. Sure, he was tall, dark, and handsome. But he was also twice my age, and I was just a young dumb kid barely out of high school.

Despite the age difference, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. As I entered the bookstore, the familiar scent of old books enveloped me, providing a comforting contrast to the gloomy weather outside. I made my way to the designated meeting spot, clutching my mocha frappuccino because of my nerves.

Nervously sipping my drink, I spotted him standing near the poetry section. His salt-and-pepper hair and well-worn leather jacket gave him an air of mystery, while his warm smile instantly put me at ease. We exchanged introductions, and as we delved into conversation, I realized there was more to him than just his striking appearance.

He possessed a wealth of knowledge and a captivating way of expressing his thoughts. We discussed literature, philosophy, and shared our favorite authors. Despite our age difference, our connection transcended the boundaries of time. It was as if we were two souls intertwined in a mutual quest for knowledge and understanding.

As the storm raged on outside, our conversation flowed effortlessly. Time seemed to stand still as we lost ourselves in the pages of countless books and the depth of our discussions. It was in that moment that I realized age was just a number and true connections could be forged regardless of societal norms.

Leaving the bookstore that night, I couldn’t help but feel a bittersweet tinge of longing. Our encounter had been brief, but it had left an indelible mark on my young heart. As I drove home in my beat-up car, the raindrops on the windshield mirrored the tears welling up in my eyes. The memory of that stormy night, that cup of coffee, and the man who defied expectations will forever remain etched in my mind.

Years later, as I reflect upon that fateful meeting, I realize that it was more than just a simple cup of coffee. It was a catalyst for personal growth, a reminder that sometimes the most unexpected connections can shape our lives in profound ways. And perhaps, in that unconventional encounter, I learned that age and appearances are just surface-level attributes, while true connections are forged by the meeting of souls.

He knew exactly what he was doing when he offered me that cup of coffee, but I was the young naïve dweeb who had no clue. I was sheltered all my life. I couldn’t see the forest through the trees if it had hit me on the nose.

Being Mormon I knew nothing about coffee. I knew we weren’t supposed to have it. But I was always adventurous and bold and my motto’s always been “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” So you can bet your buns I marched right up to that counter and ordered myself a cup o’ joe. I wasn’t even concerned with the consequences. I was living my life on the fly. And for the most part, I still live like that. Just taking things one day at a time. But something has changed.

Looking back at that moment is like a slap in the face. How could I just give up my moral agenda just like that? Sure, you could say it wasn’t that bad, it was just coffee. But even with my brashness, I’ve always strived to do the right thing. So if my religion said I shouldn’t do something, I shouldn’t do something, and instead, I did something. And that was taking a big swig of a tasty mocha frappuccino.

I couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt wash over me as I indulged in that forbidden pleasure. It may seem trivial to some, just a simple act of enjoying a coffee, but for me, it represented a betrayal of my deeply held beliefs.

Throughout my life, I had always been guided by a strong moral compass. I believed in following the teachings of my religion, adhering to its principles and restrictions. So when my faith explicitly stated that I should abstain from certain actions, I took it seriously. It was a matter of staying true to myself and my convictions.

Yet, in that moment of weakness, I succumbed to the allure of that tempting mocha frappuccino. The aroma, the creamy texture, it all proved too irresistible to resist. It was as if I had momentarily abandoned my moral agenda, allowing my desires to take precedence over my principles.

Looking back on that moment, I can’t help but feel a profound disappointment in myself. I had always prided myself on my resolve, my unwavering commitment to doing what was right. But in that moment, I faltered, and it felt like a slap in the face. I had let myself down.

Some might argue that it was just a minor transgression, a minor deviation from my moral code. After all, it was just a drink. But to me, it represented something much bigger. It symbolized a moment of weakness and a disregard for the principles that had guided me throughout my life.

Now, as I reflect on that experience, I am reminded of the importance of staying true to my values. It serves as a stark reminder that even the smallest compromises can have significant consequences. I must strive to always do the right thing, no matter how tempting or trivial the situation may seem.

So, as I move forward, I will use this experience as a lesson learned. I will remember the disappointment I felt in that moment and use it as motivation to uphold my moral agenda with unwavering determination. Because giving in to temptation may provide momentary satisfaction, but it will always leave a lingering sense of regret.

Did I like the frappuccino I had earlier that day? Yes. Did I have more frappuchinos since then? Yes. Will I continue drinking frappuchinos? I really shouldn’t.

And here’s the question of where my moral agency comes in. I’ve found a dilemma within myself. Am I more than coffee? Am I more than religion? Am I enough?

I’ve found I’ve given my life over to something greater than myself. Maybe I need someone to fill in the gaps for me. Someone who is a nice man. Someone who wouldn’t tempt me with something they knew I shouldn’t have. I think there was once a carpenter like that.