Me + Morality

I feel like my entire life is one big moral dilemma.
Ten minutes don't go by without me debating over whether or not some superfluous action is acceptable for me to commit. I constantly put myself in situations where I have to stop and think, "Is good ol' KBH behind me on this?"
Friday night was a great example of this self-imposed ethical pickle. I went to see the Black Lips for free after I left Hillel (which is a questionable move already). It was a great show, I talked to the guitarist with the dental grill about his experiences touring Israel and Palestine, and I was gonna go with Nev to her friend's place to chill afterwards. When we left the Union, the free bus was sitting on the curb and everyone ran to catch it, so I cussed and headed over there, trying to figure out what my next move would be. I couldn't just let the bus leave because then they would think, "Did we lose Eric?" but then again, I couldn't really get on the bus, the whole thing has gotta be muktzah. So I jumped on, asked the bus driver how long he was sticking around for (less than a minute) and ran to the back to give the briefest explanation of anti-busness on Shabbat ever which included the classic John Goodman à la Big Lebowski quote. But as I was finishing my 15 second speech, the bus started to pull away, which was definitely against Shabbas, so I ran to the front of the bus yelling, "STOP THE BUS!" as if I was saving an old lady who just had a heart attack. Immediately the bus driver stopped and I jumped off, giggling over the complete ridiculousness of the situation. I treated getting off that bus as if it was a life-or-death situation, like it was the most important thing I would ever do. It's funny because who else worries about these sorts of things? And the best part is, circumstances like that happen to me all the time.
In some senses, these dilemmas are crazy and unexplainable. Why should I worry so much about not mixing wool and linen? It doesn't make any sense to me and a normal person would think that I'm just being ridiculous. But in other senses, it's somewhat heartening to have a strict moral code to follow; it keeps me in check. It makes me a better person to constantly be thinking to myself, "Am I doing the right thing?" It gives my life meaning. How often does a normal American think about morality? Certainly most people don't think twice about breaking the speed limit, and very few have ethical debates over theft or murder. So when I made the decision not to eat the donut holes in my Messianism class today because they didn't have a hechsher, it made me feel good. I did something that G-d wanted, and I'm proud of that.
In A Year of Living Biblically (which I just finished), A. J. Jacobs discusses the same issues that I'm having:

I shouldn't look at the Bible as a collection of pesky tasks on my to-do list. I have to look forward to the commandments. I have to love them.
And in a few cases - just a handful, really - I'm starting to. Like, with the Sabbath. I used to orient my week around Monday, the start of the secular workweek. Now it's the Sabbath. Everything leads up to the Sabbath. On Friday morning I start prepping for it like I'm going on a big date. I make a huge pot of coffee so that I don't have to do anything resembling cooking on the Sabbath. I pile my research books in a corner.
And when the sun sets, I flip off my computer and get to work not working. Because resting is, paradoxically, difficult. The writer Judith Shulevitz talks about how avoiding business requires much effort. She's right. You can't talk about work, you can't even think about work. A notion about Esquire will creep into my brain - I have to write that article on weddings for Thursday - and I'll squash it down. Another will pop up. It's like a mental Whac-a-Mole. By the end of Saturday, as the sun finally sets, I feel as if I've done something strenuous but healthy, like I've taken a run through Central Park. I feel good, like I deserved the endorphin rush the Sabbath gave me. And then I start to look forward to next week's Sabbath.

I can really relate to him. He went though the same transformation that I did, albeit his was an experiment and mine was... uh, real I guess. But reading through it, I couldn't help but nod my head at the issues he was dealing with, such as- the problems with following laws that don't make sense, getting into awkward social situations because of certain laws, trying to weed out laws that are way too extreme to follow at this point in my life, and trying to connect with G-d but feeling a gap. I ask myself the same questions he asked all the time, but for him the experiment is over, whereas for me, it will keep on going until the day I die (bi'ezrat Hashem).
In fact, I believe this is a good thing. Anyone who believes that they fully understand their religion and know exactly what to do, obviously has no idea what their religion teaches. It is that kind of mentality that leads to fanaticism. The search for answers is the Jewish way, it is what we have been doing for 3000 years, and it is what we will continue to do for however long it takes. Yes, I believe that there is an answer out there, but we are not ready for it yet. Right now, searching and winnowing is how we are going to progress, and only through wandering will we eventually find our way.