I recently closed my bank account and put my money into a new, more convenient bank down the street from where I live. When I saw the official stamp “account closed,” I had an existential thought: Which one of my accounts has been liquidated?
Perhaps I am free of some debt that I made in another lifetime that has followed me into this planet. Perhaps my sincere prayers during the Jewish High Holidays tipped the proverbial scale and my good deeds now outweigh my bad ones. I have a clean ledger with God.
Will I ever know what I left undone in my former lives? Will my life take a change for the better now that I have made the payoff? How will this accounting be revealed? I waited for the answer in real time.
It appears with every deposit I make and every withdrawal I take.
I love my neighborhood bank. They call me by name when I walk in. They say, “Good morning!” and smile when they say, “What can I do for you today?”. It may sound phony, but I like this new attention that is directed towards me as a person of value.
Account closed. Account opened. Blessed be the bank tellers. They qualify as my new best friends. I like that change!